


Just to Lose Control

by gracerene



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Background Relationships, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bottom Merlin, Butt Plugs, Cat Kilgharrah, Community: aftercamlann, Digital Art, Dirty Talk, Dom Arthur, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Fanart, Flogging, Frottage, Illustrated, Light Bondage, M/M, NSFW Art, Past Character Death, Praise Kink, Rimming, Spanking, Sub Merlin, Top Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin may need to submit every once in awhile, but that doesn't mean he wants a relationship, and he certainly doesn't want to fall in love. Of course, he wasn't counting on Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Just to lose control Illustrations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7788487) by [karovie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karovie/pseuds/karovie). 



> This was written for the 2016 [aftercamlann big bang](http://aftercamlann.livejournal.com/) on livejournal.
> 
> A million thanks to lauren3210 for the wonderful beta!
> 
> And an extra special thanks goes to karovie for creating some seriously AMAZING pieces of art to go with this fic! The pieces are embedded within, but you can also check out just the spectacular artwork [HERE ON AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7788487) or [HERE ON TUMBLR](http://karoviesart.tumblr.com/post/149042116256/after-camlann-big-bang-illustration-for-just-to). Please go over and give her some love because she seriously deserves it! :D

Merlin was sitting on his sofa, trapped in a slightly uncomfortable position by the large, orange cat sleeping on his lap, when a shrill ringing sound cut through the air. Merlin winced as he carefully fished his mobile out of his pocket, trying not to jostle Kilgharrah—he tended to use his claws when he was disturbed. Merlin had been watching the telly, but his heart still raced from the sudden shriek of his phone. He really needed to change his ringtone to something less jarring.

He looked down at the screen and frowned at the caller ID. _Morgana_. Merlin had called her last week to set up a session, but they weren't supposed to meet until the weekend. She usually only called him the day before their meetings to confirm they were still on. His chest squeezed painfully at the thought that she might be calling to cancel. He'd already put things off for longer than he should have; the uncomfortable buzzing in his head, the tightness in his shoulders, and the unsteadiness of his hands were all starting to get out of control. He shook his anxiety off. Morgana hadn't cancelled a session yet. He was probably worrying for nothing.

Merlin took a steadying breath and answered his mobile.

"Hello?"

"Merlin! Hi, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Morgana. What can I do for you? You don't usually call."

"I know. I'm really sorry, Merlin. I know we had planned for a session on Saturday, but I'm not going to be able to make it."

The tightness in his chest came back full force, constricting until Merlin had to fight to take a breath. "I...I see. Is something wrong?" His voice sounded far away, like he was hearing through a dense fog.

"I broke my arm in a skiing accident." Merlin was shocked to hear what sounded like embarrassment colouring Morgana's tone. Morgana was never embarrassed. It was part of why he liked subbing for her so much. "The doctor said no strenuous activity, and while I didn't exactly ask about specifics, I'm pretty sure it applies." She growled in frustration. "I can't even hold anything anyway."

"I'm so sorry, Morgana." He was. Morgana needed this outlet just as much, if not more, than he did. He couldn't imagine how frustrated the always-in-control Morgana must be feeling right now. "How long?"

"I'm not sure. But the doctor said it could take up to six months. And, because it was my dominant arm, she said that even after the cast comes off, I'll probably have to train up a bit to make sure it's all back to normal. Which means it'll be a little longer before it safe for me to use a whip or a flogger."

Merlin grimaced. He felt bad for Morgana and he knew this situation wasn't really her fault, but he couldn't help but wish she hadn't gone skiing last weekend. Why couldn't she have waited one more week? He felt immediately guilty at the thought. Morgana wouldn't be able to play for months, and here Merlin was, pouting because he wouldn't be able to get an immediate fix.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to wait for another week though, let alone several months. Unfortunately, ever since he'd met Morgana over a year ago, he hadn't felt the need to connect with anybody else in the lifestyle. His arrangement with Morgana had given him exactly what he needed, and he wasn't interested in anything more. Now, he was starting to regret his decision to keep his distance. Merlin knew it was for the best, but at times like this, it would certainly be helpful to know a Dom or two that could step in. He really didn't fancy having to go to one of the clubs and pull. It would take ages if he did things right, and Merlin wasn't one for taking stupid risks. 

"Al—Alright, Morgana. Thank you for letting me know. Uh—" He broke off. His instincts were telling him to end the call and figure things out for himself, but his more practical side argued that Morgana was a lot more active in the community, and might be able to help with his new predicament.

"Actually, that wasn't the only reason why I called. The last time we discussed limits, you said that I was the only person you were submitting to. You're pretty regular about calling me, and I know you tend to wait a little longer than you should."

"And?" Merlin's voice was hard. How long he went between playing wasn't Morgana's concern.

"And." For a moment Morgana's voiced transformed to that steely, commanding tone that always made Merlin's knees go weak, but her voice gentled as she continued, "And I know you aren't very connected to the community here. I was wondering if you wanted my help setting you up with somebody while I'm...incapacitated."

"I—" Merlin fought his instinct to say no. He didn't really have the time or inclination to go out and find somebody on such short notice, and he trusted Morgana. He wouldn't be meeting with her if he didn't. "That would be great, actually."

"Oh, wonderful! I have a friend, well more like family, really, but he's just—"

"Wait, he?"

"Oh, did I get that wrong? You mentioned subbing for men in the past, and you told me that you generally prefer—"

"No, no, that shouldn't be a problem. I was just surprised is all."

"Good. As I was saying, he's been out of the country for awhile, and a little out of touch with the scene here. I think you two will hit it off."

"Is he any good?"

Morgana laughed. "The best. Well, after me, of course. Or so I've been told. He definitely knows what he's doing, Merlin. He's been busy trying to get settled in, and he hasn't had a chance to play yet. He was pretty enthusiastic yesterday when I told him I might have a sub he could work with. But I wanted to call you first before I passed on your info. What do you think?"

"Yeah. Yes, that sounds good."

"Excellent. I'll have him call you and set up a meeting. If you don't click, I'll do my best to try and find somebody else for you. I've got a few friends who aren't in exclusive relationships that might be willing to take on something more casual for awhile."

"Thanks, Morgana. I—I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem, Merlin. I'm supposed to take care of you. Though—I don't want to push you, but it wouldn't hurt if you got a bit more involved, you know. We take care of our own, and you don't have to come out to the clubs if you don't want to. There's a monthly munch at Sword and Staff, and you'd be more than welcome there."

"I'll think about it Morgana."

"Please do, Merlin." There was a bustling noise on the other side of the line, and some muffled voices. "Okay, I've got to get going. But I'll give your contact info to my friend, so expect him to call you later today."

"Alright." Merlin moved to hang up before he realised something. "Wait! What's this guy's name, anyway?"

Morgana laughed with a little too much enthusiasm, and when she spoke, her voice was still full of mirth. "His name is Arthur."


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin was running late. 

It wasn't his fault, not really, but Mrs Jacobson had ended up throwing up on him right as his shift was up, and he'd needed to take an extra long shower to get the smell off. He was already feeling nervous about meeting Arthur, and the extra time cleaning off made him miss his bus. The next one was ten minutes late, and the end result was Merlin rushing down the sidewalk and trying not to panic.

Normally running a few minutes behind wouldn't have bothered Merlin much, but he wanted this meeting to go well. It didn't exactly send out the best impression, a sub who couldn't even follow the simplest of requests to show up on time. Down the street, Merlin could just now make out the distinctive sign of The Temple Bar, where _Arthur_ suggested they meet. He really hoped Arthur was still there. Merlin had sent him a text when he'd realised he'd be fifteen minutes late, but he'd been too chicken to check his mobile and see if Arthur had responded. 

With a deep breath, Merlin pulled open the door of the coffee shop, and slipped inside. He scanned the room, realising for the first time that he had absolutely no idea what "Arthur" looked like. Luckily, there weren't too many people in the shop for Merlin to choose from. He quickly discarded the trio of women chatting in the corner, the couple playing footsie by the window, and the angry looking woman muttering at her laptop. That just left a thin, red-haired boy who looked like he wasn't a day over eighteen, and an impatient looking blond in a perfectly tailored suit. Merlin knew better than to judge a book by its cover, but he had a hard time picturing Morgana being BFF's with the pimply-faced kid flipping through a textbook. Which meant that Arthur had to be the blond in the suit. The one with the broad chest, full lips, and strong jaw. 

Merlin was completely unprepared for the wave of lust that crashed over him as he took in Arthur's form. He couldn't help but imagine Arthur towering over him, powerful and imposing as he ordered Merlin to… Merlin jolted and tried to shake the images from his head. He should focus on actually meeting the man first. If they were compatible, then maybe those fantasies could become a reality. He really hoped they were compatible.

Slowly, he wove his way through the labyrinth of tables and chairs and made his way over to the man against the wall. He paused next to his chair and quirked a smile down at him.

The man looked up, giving Merlin a slow once over, his eyes inscrutable. "Merlin?"

"Uh—yeah—that's me." 

His mouth pulled down in a not-quite-frown. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine. I've got water." He held up his well-worn water bottle as evidence.

Arthur raised a brow, but motioned to the empty seat across from him. Merlin wasn't sure if the gesture felt considerate or condescending, but he sat down anyway.

"I—" Merlin had no clue what to say. "Is your name _really_ Arthur?" 

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Yes, my name is really Arthur. It's a perfectly normal name. Unlike _Mer_ lin."

Merlin felt his hackles rise. He'd just been making conversation, there was no need for Arthur to be rude. "Oi, there's nothing wrong with my name! Do you always talk to your subs like that?"

Arthur smirked. "You're not my sub."

"Well, I certainly won't be if you're going to be such a prat!" Merlin glared at Arthur and debated just standing up and leaving. He hated Doms that seemed to think that just because Merlin was a sub, it meant that they could walk all over him. But Morgana had vouched for Arthur and he trusted her judgment. He'd stay another few minutes before leaving _Arthur_ to his espresso.

Arthur looked a bit shocked at Merlin's outburst, before his expression turned contrite. "Apologies, Merlin," he said stiffly, "I'm a bit...sensitive about my name, I didn't mean to insult you."

Merlin gazed at him warily for a moment before nodding his acceptance. "That's okay. I just thought it was weird is all, Arthur and Merlin, I thought maybe Morgana was having me on."

Arthur smiled and Merlin couldn't help but stare at the way it transformed his face. His eyes brightened and his whole body opened up in beautiful invitation. Merlin felt a little light-headed. 

"That does seem like something Morgana would do," Arthur conceded.

"How do you know Morgana?"

A pained expression flickered over Arthur's face, a cloud covering the sun, before his smile appeared again, looking more strained. "We grew up together. She's my...sister."

"Oh! I didn't realise Morgana had a brother." Merlin wrinkled his nose. "Isn't it a bit weird, the whole…" Merlin waved his hand around. Merlin didn't have any siblings, but he couldn't imagine talking about any of this with a brother or sister.

Arthur looked amused. "Sex is perfectly natural, Merlin. And there's nothing wrong with kink."

"I know that! It's just...she's your _sister_."

"Well, it's not like we're playing together. And we didn't actually know about the sibling thing until recently. It's complicated."

"Ah." Merlin clenched his jaw shut in an effort not to ask Arthur all about it. He had a feeling Arthur wasn't in the mood for sharing, and he didn't want his big mouth to ruin this before they had a chance to talk. Despite the rocky beginning, Merlin had a good feeling about Arthur.

"What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you meet Morgana? She didn't tell me much about your...arrangement."

Merlin blushed. "I—uh—I met Morgana at a club, _Mercy_ , almost a year ago. I'd just moved to London for a job and I didn't really know anybody. I thought I'd check out the club, and I met Morgana almost right away." That was all true, of course. Though Merlin didn't think he needed to tell Arthur about how he'd moved to London six months before finally giving in and going to the club, how hard he tried to resist finding a Dom, or Domme as the case ended up being. "We ended up talking for hours. Neither of us were looking for anything serious, so when we discovered our compatibilities, we decided to become play partners."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. "How often do you meet?"

"I've got a pretty busy schedule, so we really only meet every other month or so. She brings me down hard, and then I'm...set for awhile."

"And how does she bring you down?"

"Depends. I like being tied up, being bossed around, being hit—"

Arthur eyes danced. "Painslut?"

Merlin wrinkled his nose. "I've never been that fond of the term. But yeah, I like pain, impact play mostly."

"Sting or thud?"

"Both. I like thud a bit more, but I crave something a bit sharper sometimes."

Arthur look thoughtful. "What do you like being hit with?"

"I like a lot of things; belts, paddles, hands...though my favourite is the flogger."

Arthur flashed a sharp smile. "Mine, too." Merlin shivered. "What don't you like?"

"Some of the more intense stuff, watersports, scat, no permanent marks. I'm not so much into full sensory deprivation, though I don't mind blindfolds. Not really into full-on public scenes. No edgeplay, and I'm not at all into 24/7 or Master/slave stuff."

Arthur snorted. "I noticed."

"Yes, well, I like submitting in the bedroom, but I am not your doormat," Merlin snapped. "I'm not interested in playing with anybody who can't tell the difference between consensual scenes and real life."

Arthur held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Hey now, I wasn't disagreeing with you. I find your candor...refreshing. I'm not looking for a slave."

"Good."

"What about sex?"

"What about it?"

"I was under the impression from Morgana that your arrangement wasn't really sexual."

"Oh. I—uh—it's definitely sexual for me. I usually get off, when she lets me, and sometimes she...provides additional assistance, but sex wasn't as large of a factor in our scenes. I'm not really interested in the service top thing, and I think she had a more regular sub to take care of her, so she didn't need that from me. I prefer men, sexually, so our scenes generally didn't have a large sexual component, but I do find submission...arousing."

Arthur tapped his thumb against his lower lip. Merlin's eyes followed the movement greedily. "What about with me?"

"Hmm?" Merlin asked distractedly.

"Sex. With me." Merlin's head snapped up. 

"What do you have in mind?"

"I'd like to fuck you...among other things."

Merlin's mind supplied a helpful image of Arthur bending him over their table at the coffeeshop, stripping Merlin naked and fucking him while Arthur still wore his expensive suit. His mouth went dry. "I'd be okay with that," Merlin squeaked. He cleared his throat. "My arse is pretty...sensitive. I enjoy having it played with."

"That won't be a problem." Arthur flashed a devilish grin before pausing to take a drink of coffee. "What about your past experience, before Morgana?"

"I've only had one other Dom." Arthur looked surprised and Merlin heart clenched, the pain still sharp even after all this time. "High-school sweethearts, I suppose. We were best friends, then lovers, then...we sort of discovered all this together."

"What happened?"

"Life," Merlin answered shortly. "And then I moved to London and found Morgana. I didn't need to look for anybody else until now."

Arthur looked like he wanted to ask Merlin more, but he wisely held his tongue. It had been years, but Merlin still wasn't ready to talk about Will. He wasn't sure if he would ever be ready.

"Well, is there anything you wanted to ask me?" Arthur asked after a long moment.

"As a matter of fact…"

+++

It was dark when Merlin finally got home.

He was immediately assaulted by a meowing Kilgharrah, who was clearly quite cross about Merlin not having been home earlier to refill his food bowl. His striped orange face looked even more scrunched and grumpy than usual. Merlin scratched behind his ears in apology and poured some dry food out into his dish before heading to his bedroom to change.

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/gracerene/60413356/33741/33741_original.png)

Merlin hadn't expected for his meeting with Arthur to last so long. They'd talked for hours, eventually heading to the Italian restaurant next to the coffee house to get some dinner. Arthur took his grilling with surprising grace, answering all of Merlin's questions with frank honesty. No doubt, he still came off as a bit of a pretentious prat, but it was clear Arthur knew what he was doing, and he seemed like an overall decent bloke. Not to mention the fact that he was gorgeous. There was no point in denying that Merlin was ridiculously attracted to him. It actually almost seemed too good to be true, this attractive, available Dom, who seemed to share all of Merlin's kinks. Merlin couldn't believe for a moment that Arthur would have any difficulty pulling a sub for himself at one of the clubs. Part of Merlin wondered if there was something secretly wrong with Arthur, that he hadn't already been snapped up.

But Arthur had only just returned to England, and Morgana _had_ vouched for him. After a year of playing with her, Merlin trusted her judgement.

Before parting ways for the night, they'd made plans to meet at Arthur's house at the end of the week to talk more specifics and hopefully do a scene. Arthur had written down his full name and address, so that Merlin could look him up and give the information to a few friends for his safety. Merlin was comforted that Arthur cared so much about his peace of mind, and he found himself anticipating the upcoming Saturday with even greater excitement. Merlin badly needed the escape of submission, and spending time with Arthur had made Merlin feel hopeful that Arthur might be able to give it to him.

Merlin did a final sweep of his flat, before turning in to bed. That night he dreamt of big hands and a bright smile and blond hair. He slept better than he had in ages.


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin's stomach clenched in nervous anticipation as he checked the address on his mobile once again, his eyes flickering between the screen and the house in front of him. This was it. 

The house was big and expensive looking, and Merlin could only imagine how much more lavish it would look inside. It wasn't that Merlin was surprised to see the kind of place Arthur lived in—it was clear from his perfectly tailored suit the other day that he made good money—but it was still a bit of a shock to realise just how different their backgrounds were. From the look of things, Merlin could probably fit his entire flat in that house, and still only take up half of the lower level. Merlin shook the thoughts from his head. It didn't matter if Arthur had more money than he did. All that mattered was if he could give Merlin what he needed. He fervently hoped so. The buzzing beneath his skin was at a fever pitch, and he desperately needed something to take the edge off.

He rang the bell and began to shift his weight from one leg to the other as he waited. Seconds later, the door opened, soft light spilling onto the doorstep. Merlin blinked, momentarily stunned by the appearance of Arthur in jeans and a soft looking long-sleeved shirt. Arthur was even more attractive than Merlin had remembered, and he felt a flash of annoyance at Arthur's effortless good-looks, even as Merlin's heart sped up at the sight of him. 

Merlin's eyes focused in on Arthur's expression, jolting at the look of amusement on Arthur's face. His eyebrows were raised in gentle mocking as he held the door wide open, and Merlin blushed. Merlin had a feeling that he'd missed Arthur's greeting while he had been busy blatantly checking him out. 

"Do you plan on accepting my offer to come inside, or would you prefer to do this out on the steps? It might get a little chilly, and I'm not sure my neighbour, Mrs Pendelton, will approve, but if that's what—"

Merlin huffed and strode inside the house, resolutely ignoring Arthur's chuckle as he closed the door. He planned to continue his confident walk through the house, but was stopped short by the realisation that he had no clue where to go. As reluctant as Merlin was to follow Arthur, it appeared he had have no choice.

He turned around slowly, assaulted once again with the image of Arthur's smug, amused face as he watched Merlin spin around in circles.

"Going somewhere?"

Merlin glared. Maybe this was a bad idea. Arthur was hot, sure, and they seemed to have quite a few things in common, at least all the important things for this kind of encounter. But he'd been a bit of a git both of the times they'd met now, and Merlin was starting to wonder if he would really be comfortable letting go in front of him. Truth be told, he reminded Merlin uncomfortably of some of the annoying bullies of his youth. Not that anything truly bad had ever happened, but being a pale, skinny, openly-gay kid growing up had naturally attracted some unwanted attention. The idea of letting himself be vulnerable in front of that kind of person was hardly appealing. 

He eyed the door and let out a resigned sigh. "Maybe I should be..."

Arthur followed his gaze and his eyes widened. "Hey now, I was just teasing!" He held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. "Honestly. It makes sense that you'd be a bit jittery right now, going so long without and your first time with a new play partner."

Merlin nodded slowly, but his eyes still flicked between Arthur's face and the front door.

"If...if you're not comfortable, then of course you can leave, but I think you should give me a try."

"Why?" 

Arthur looked dumbfounded at Merlin's question. 

"Why should I give you a shot?" Merlin clarified. "Why do you want this...me?"

"Because…" Arthur rubbed a hand over his face, looking surprising weary. "Because Morgana thinks we'd be a good match, and she's never wrong. Because you intrigue me, and you're gorgeous, and I want to see how all that pale skin marks up. Because it's been too damn long since I've played, and I've been looking forward to this since the coffee shop." Arthur paused and took a small step towards Merlin. Merlin's breath caught and the intensity on his face. "And because I can give you what you need. I can make it good for you, Merlin. So good."

Merlin took a deep breath, trying to calm the flood of arousal that Arthur's words had inspired. Fuck, but Merlin wanted them to be true. He looked deep into Arthur's eyes, looking for any hint of trickery or malice, but they were completely open and sincere. Despite his somewhat prick-ish exterior, Arthur had been nothing but respectful of his desires and his safety. Instinctively Merlin knew that, however well they played together, he wouldn't be in danger with Arthur. His body hummed with need, and Merlin knew his answer.

"Alright."

Arthur's smile was blinding.

"The bedroom's upstairs," he said as he began down the hall. "Would you like some water first?"

"Yes, please."

The hallway opened up and Arthur gestured at a large and stylish living area. "Make yourself at home. I'll go and grab us a few bottled waters."

Merlin nodded absently and made his way to the plush leather sofa. Now that he had fully committed to following this through, he was anxious to get started. It was as if, now that he knew he was moments away from relief, his pent-up desire from the past few weeks all came crashing down on him. He felt shy and overwhelmed, thoughts spinning out of control in his head as he sank down into the sofa cushions.

What felt like an eon later, Arthur arrived carrying several bottled waters. He passed one wordlessly to Merlin, and Merlin took it gratefully. Without pause he opened it up and downed half the bottle in one smooth swallow, relishing the cool liquid sliding down his throat. When he looked up, Arthur was staring at him, his expression hungry as it fixated on Merlin's long neck. After a moment of staring, Arthur seemed to remember himself, clearing his throat and looking away as he sipped at his own water, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

"So," Arthur began. "Are you okay with the colour system for safe wording? Red for stop the scene, yellow for pause and talk, green for keep going?"

Merlin nodded. He'd always used the colour system. He liked the simplicity and universality of it. 

"I don't usually like to discuss the particulars of what I've got planned beforehand, but if it would make you more comfortable…"

"No, I like not knowing what's in store."

Arthur's eyes lit up, his fingers tightening around the plastic bottle in his hands. The plastic crackled loudly in the silence of the house.

"Is there anything else you'd like to discuss before we get started?"

Merlin shook his head, blood pounding in his ears.

"Then let's head upstairs."

Merlin followed Arthur silently up the stairs and into another tastefully decorated room, done up in dark red and gold. It was large, with a lavish four-poster bed on one side and a small sitting area on the other. The room was dim, lit only by a large floor lamp by the sofa. It was cosy and surprisingly warm, but it all looked so immaculately clean. Merlin wondered if this was Arthur's room, or just a guest bedroom. It seemed far too large to be anything other than the master suite, but then again, the entire house was large and overwhelming. 

"You'll tell me _immediately_ if I start to do anything you don't like or that makes you uncomfortable?" Arthur's voice was loud and jarring in the quiet of the room. He looked so imposing, standing in his expensive clothes and surrounded by the understated opulence of the room.

Merlin nodded mutely.

"I need you to say it, Merlin."

Merlin's lips curved into a half-smile. "Yes, I will have no problem letting you know if I want you to stop or slow down."

Arthur grinned back at him, the light from the lamp glinting off his perfect teeth. "Wonderful. Now strip."

Merlin blinked at him in a daze.

"Merlin. Don't make me ask again." Arthur's voice had deepened, the commanding tone unmistakable. Merlin started and hastened to obey. It wasn't until he was standing stark naked while Arthur lounged fully dressed on the sofa that Merlin felt a rush of self-consciousness. He fought against the urge to cover himself, and stood there silently, letting Arthur look his fill. Arthur licked his lips and Merlin's cock started filling with blood.

"Turn around."

Merlin's skin heated as he did as instructed. He could practically feel Arthur's gaze leaving a trail of heat across his skin. His prick seemed to quite enjoy it. 

"You really do have a lovely arse," Arthur mused behind him. "I think I'd like to hit it." Merlin didn't bother suppressing his moan. Oh, how he wanted that.

"Why don't you lie across my lap, Merlin, and we'll see to that." Arthur's words may have sounded suggestive, but his tone made it clear he was not asking. Merlin climbed awkwardly onto the sofa, positioning his bare arse over Arthur's clothed lap and pressing his burning face into the seat cushions. 

"Colour?" Arthur murmured, as a rough hand slid slowly down Merlin's back to caress his bum.

"Green." Merlin's cock was fully hard now, pressed between his stomach and Arthur's thighs. The pressure felt wonderful.

"Good. I want you to count for me."

Merlin didn't even have time to nod before he registered the sting of Arthur's palm smacking into the flesh of his left cheek. "O—One," he choked out.

"Very nice." Arthur's hand caressed the stinging skin of Merlin's bum. His hand was warm and soothing, but just for a moment. A second later he slapped his palm against Merlin's other cheek, Merlin called out, "Two," as heat bloomed beneath his skin.

Arthur rained a series of sharp, stinging blows to Merlin's arse and the backs of his thighs. He varied the pressure, timing, and location, so that Merlin never knew what to expect. It was thrilling, the control that Arthur took with that variety. Merlin couldn't prepare himself, couldn't tense or brace his arms against the sofa. He could only lie there and take it, counting aloud as his breath sped up and his eyes began to water from the glorious pain of it all.

By the time Arthur reached twenty, Merlin was a crying, desperate mess. His cock was hard and leaking against Arthur's lap, and his arse felt like it was on fire from the force of Arthur's punishing hand. Arthur stroked softly down Merlin's spine, and Merlin couldn't help but buck his hips when Arthur's fingers teased at his cleft.

"Colour?"

"Green." So very green.

"Get up and kneel on the sofa, facing the back."

Gingerly, Merlin obeyed. He wrapped his hands along the sturdy top of the sofa and turned his back on Arthur. Though not before catching sight of Arthur's trousers and the tempting bulge beneath.

Arthur stepped close and squeezed Merlin's arse, the action sending spikes of pain vibrating out through his limbs. Merlin arched back into it, his pulse pounding. Arthur's fingers dug into his crease, prying his cheeks apart and exposing him fully. 

"You said you had a sensitive arse." Arthur's teeth tugged the lobe of Merlin's ear, his hot breath and hotter words making Merlin's mind go fuzzy. Merlin nodded.

"Use your words, Merlin," Arthur chided.

Merlin felt a flare of irritation and opened his mouth to snark back. As if reading his mind, Arthur gave Merlin's raw arse another hard squeeze, reminding Merlin who was in control right now. Merlin exhaled in annoyance and arousal.

"Yes," he finally muttered.

"Excellent. Then hopefully you'll enjoy this."

There was a rustle of clothing as Arthur dropped to his knees behind Merlin. Merlin's heart beat in double time as he realised what Arthur intended. He spared a grateful thought for his foresight in taking extra care in his preparation before coming over today, before he felt the first swipe of Arthur's tongue and all rational thought left him. 

Arthur tongued him with broad, sloppy strokes, getting him wet before coming back in with teasing kitten licks. Merlin hadn't experienced this often—Will wasn't a big fan and had only rewarded Merlin with it on special occasions. It had always driven Merlin wild, the soft, wet heat of tongue and lips caressing his most intimate of places, making him loose and pliant and soaking. Arthur clearly had experience; his tongue played Merlin like a flute, making him keen and writhe. 

Not that he managed much writhing. Arthur's strong hands held his arse in a vice grip and prevented all but the smallest of movements. Merlin didn't mind. He liked the restraining feeling of Arthur preventing him from moving with just his strength.

Arthur pulled back and blew at the saliva soaked rim of Merlin's hole. Merlin shivered and clenched down at the rush of cold. Arthur chuckled and rubbed a cheek against Merlin's arse. The faintest scratch of stubble made itself known against his warmed up skin. Merlin hadn't noticed any stubble on Arthur's face earlier, but now each individual hair sent a pulse of heat to Merlin's groin as they scraped against the sensitive flesh of his freshly spanked arse.

"Don't move," Arthur commanded. His deep voice vibrated against Merlin's cleft as his hands left Merlin's arse.

Merlin's hands spasmed against the sofa back as Arthur dove back in, clever fingers joining in the assault. Arthur had somehow managed to procure lube and he licked the curve of Merlin's arse as two of his fingers circled Merlin's hole.

"Colour?"

"God, fuck, green!" Merlin wanted him to get on with it. He wanted to feel the fullness that those fingers promised.

"Eager are we?"

Merlin wanted to bare his teeth and growl. He wanted to tell Arthur to go fuck himself. But he was sure if he said that, then Arthur probably wouldn't be fucking _him_ , and he very much wanted that. The spanking had already satisfied him, the pain and submission with a new partner more than enough to hold him over for a few weeks. But Merlin wasn't done. His blood sang with the need to keep going, to keep letting Arthur take him apart.

So Merlin held his snarky retort, instead gasping out an embarrassingly honest, " _Yes_."

Arthur fingers sank inside, two at once, and Merlin's body opened up for them like a flower in the sun. They moved with devastating precision, slicking up his inner walls and dancing across his prostate in maddeningly short caresses. Merlin's cock dripped a steady flow of precome onto the fine leather of the sofa, throbbing with each practised twist of Arthur's wrist.

"I'm going to fuck you, Merlin," Arthur said, casually, his fingers still leisurely pumping into Merlin's arse. "I'm going to take your arse fast and hard, and you're not going to come until I say you can."

Merlin's hands spasmed against the back of the sofa, his stomach somersaulting at the dizzying image. 

"Yeah, yes, please. Gods, please fuck me."

"I guess I don't need to ask what colour," Arthur said, amusement colouring his voice as his fingers slid out of Merlin.

Merlin heard a zipper and the familiar crinkle of foil. Moments later, the round head of Arthur's cock pressed against him. He pushed back—Arthur said he couldn't come, not that he couldn't move—eager to feel the singular sensation of having a man inside of him. Arthur didn't disappoint. He was long and thick as he sunk inside, stretching Merlin to his very limits. His arse throbbed as he adjusted to Arthur's length splitting him open. 

He didn't have long to adjust. Mere moments after Arthur bottomed out, he slapped Merlin's arse, hard. The sting reverberated through Merlin and while he was still reeling from the shock, Arthur pulled out and began to fuck him. He didn't bother working Merlin into it, starting immediately into the fast and hard pace he had promised. 

Merlin loved it.

He felt alight with sensation, every place that Arthur touched sending fireworks of delicious pain and pleasure bursting inside of him. He felt completely outside of himself, out of control and out of his body, nothing but a pair of hands holding tight to the sofa and a fervent desire _not to come, not to come, don't come until he says so._

With Arthur's furious pace and the intense build-up, it was no surprise that Merlin was at the brink in no time at all. He could feel his orgasm cresting, but as badly as he wanted to come, the desire not to disappoint Arthur was stronger. He began to slam his arse back into Arthur's thrusts with greater enthusiasm, clenching his muscles in an effort to bring Arthur that much closer to his own peak.

"You close, Mer—lin?" Arthur panted.

Merlin could only whine desperately, unable to spare the concentration it would take to form words. 

"Fuck, you're so good. Go ahead and come for me, Merlin. You've earned it."

Arthur smacked his bum again, and Merlin came. He sobbed with relief as his cock emptied onto the butter-smooth leather, shockingly white against the matte black-brown. Arthur groaned, his hips moving impossibly faster until his hands clenched hard into Merlin's arse, and he reached his own climax.

They stayed there for a few moments, intimately connected as they came down from their spectacular high. Merlin felt dazed and shaky. That had been unbelievably intense, and they hadn't even played that hard. It was a little terrifying, just how good it had been, how Arthur had so perfectly pushed Merlin over the edge with some spanking and rimming and a good hard fuck. It made Merlin wonder what Arthur could do to him with a flogger. 

Slowly, Arthur pulled out of Merlin's arse, showing all the tenderness he hadn't when he'd fucked him. Merlin winced at the loss. The emptiness seemed to suddenly bring into focus all of Merlin's little hurts: the soreness of his rim, the dull throb of his arse and thighs, the ache in his muscles from bracing himself so hard on the sofa. 

Arthur seemed to know exactly what to do though. He helped Merlin sit up, pulling him against his chest and holding a water bottle to his mouth. Merlin was too grateful for the water to be put out about being babied. He knew all too well how important this part was, and he didn't fancy dropping by himself out of some misplaced sense of pride. 

When Merlin had finished the water, Arthur guided him over to the lush bed across the room. He wiped Merlin down with a cloth, so Merlin didn't have to feel guilty about sullying the clearly expensive duvet with lube and come. The sheets were unreal, smooth and petal-soft against his overheated skin. With Morgana, he didn't spend more than the bare minimum amount of time in aftercare. As much as he enjoyed her company, he was always eager to get away once he'd got what he came for. 

Now, though, he felt reluctant to leave. 

Arthur rubbed fancy, cooling lotion against his arse, and Merlin told himself that he would get up just as soon as Arthur finished. It didn't matter that this was the safest and most content he had felt for as long as he could remember, or that this was the world's most comfortable bed, or that he really liked the warmth of Arthur's hands and the striking blue of his eyes. This was a simple arrangement, like the kind he'd had with Morgana. The only kind he wanted. 

He closed his eyes for just a moment and let himself relax into the press-rub of Arthur's palms on his flesh. A moment more in this hazy dream world before he would step back into reality.

+++

Merlin woke up in an inferno. He was buried beneath a mountain of thick, soft sheets, sweat pooling stickily in the small of his back. There was a heavy bar of heat across his chest, weighing him down. Merlin felt an instinctive flare of panic, his eyes flashing open and his body tensing as he tried to get his bearings. The bar across his chest twitched, and a small annoyed snuffle of air next to Merlin's ear brought memories of the previous night rushing in.

He was at Arthur's house. In Arthur's bed. _Why_ was he still in Arthur's bed? That's not how these things went. Outside of sex or a scene, Merlin strove to keep things casual, professional. Which meant he never stayed the night. What had he been thinking? What had Arthur been thinking? Arthur should have kicked him out as soon as Merlin had recovered his equilibrium, not cuddled him all through the night.

As if hearing his thoughts, the arm around him tightened and pulled him closer to Arthur's dozing form. Arthur was a solid mass of strength and heat, warming the cocoon of their blankets to volcanic temperatures. Merlin felt like he couldn't breath. 

Arthur looked even more beautiful up close, quiet and peaceful in sleep. Merlin allowed himself a moment to look. He admired the sweep of Arthur's cheekbones, the square cut of his jaw, and the obscenely full lips, slightly opened as Arthur breathed deep and even. The faint morning light lit up his golden hair like a crown, making him look regal and other-worldly. Merlin's mouth went dry. His head spun with the knowledge that he'd had sex with this stupidly attractive man, that he'd submitted to him, and it'd been amazing. Too amazing. There had been a spark there that he had never felt with Morgana. Which was yet another reason he'd subbed for her for so long. Merlin didn't want a connection. Never again.

Slowly, he began to inch out from Arthur's grip until his eyes caught sight of the digital clock on the beside table. It was a quarter till eight, and it took several moments for Merlin's brain to remember that it was Sunday. Which meant he needed to be at the hospital in fifteen minutes. Fuck.

Heart racing, he leapt out of the bed. A quick sweep of the room revealed his pants and the rest of his clothes lying folded on top of the sofa. He dressed in record time, feeling clumsy and off-kilter. Merlin was never late. Of course, he also never spent the night with anybody either, so it seemed to be quite the day of firsts.

"Are you alright?"

Merlin jumped and spun, heart skittering and thumping at the shock. Arthur was sitting up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist and exposing his unbelievably well-formed chest. Merlin felt a sudden overwhelming and ridiculous urge to run his tongue along the curve of Arthur's right pec. 

By the time Merlin's gaze reached Arthur's face, it was creased with smug amusement. Merlin blushed and glared.

"I'm fine."

Arthur smiled, a not-quite-condescending, unfairly attractive smile that showed off his perfectly straight, white teeth. "So where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"I've got work. Which I'm going to be late to, thanks to you."

"Thanks to me? I'm not the one who passed out cold in my bed."

Merlin's entire face burned. He still couldn't believe he had let his guard down like that. It was mortifying. "Yeah, well, you could have woken me up."

"But you looked so adorable all snuggled up under the sheets, and you seemed like you could use the rest. Besides, who has work on a _Sunday_? It's the day of rest, Merlin." Arthur's nose wrinkled adorably, as if he couldn't fathom why anybody would work on the weekend. Merlin felt an infuriating mixture of charmed and annoyed. He knew it wasn't Arthur's fault that he was born into a wealthy family, but Merlin had worked damned hard to get to where he was. Merlin wondered if Arthur had ever had to work for anything.

"Not all of us have the luxury of living off of Daddy's allowance." Not that Arthur was either, not that Merlin knew for sure, but he thought it probably wasn't a bad guess.

Arthur's eyes narrowed in annoyance, and Merlin suppressed a grin. Not a bad a guess at all. He knew he was being childish, but it still felt good to not be the only one feeling unsettled. 

"What is it you do then, _Mer_ lin?" Arthur's voice was polite, if a little cooler than before.

"I'm a nurse. And I really am running late."

"Do you need a ride somewhere, I could…"

"No, no, it's alright. I've got scrubs at the hospital and there's a bus near here. It's fine." A ride would be nice, but Merlin needed some space. Everything about this morning had thrown him off balance, and Arthur's eyes were becoming increasingly distracting. 

"Alright." Arthur bit his lip, looking suddenly, surprisingly unsure. "You should call me...if you're interested in doing another scene."

Merlin's breath caught, somehow completely taken off guard by Arthur's offer. He thought about last night, about the sting of Arthur's hand on Merlin's skin, the ache that he could still feel on his arse and thighs. Yeah, Merlin wouldn't mind doing that again.

"I—okay." He flashed Arthur a small, genuine smile. Arthur returned it with a broad grin of his own.

"Wonderful. Have a nice day at work, Merlin."

Merlin nodded and turned to walk down the hall, the memory of Arthur's blinding smile and twinkling eyes burned into his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a long week. Merlin's session with Arthur several weeks back had left him feeling more settled and grounded than ever. Unfortunately, not even his newly established equilibrium could hold up under a sixty-hour work week. He was aching and exhausted and all too ready to go home and collapse into bed.

The last thing he wanted to be doing was getting ready for a night out. 

Yet here he was, standing in front of his mirror in his tightest pants and running gel through his hair. All he wanted to do was curl up in bed with a nice book, but Gwen would kill him if he cancelled. Since she worked at the hospital with him, she wouldn't let him use the long work week as an excuse to get out of actual socialisation. Not to mention the fact that she was dying to hear all the dirty details of his scene with Arthur. He had told her the basics before he'd gone over, just in case anything went wrong, and luckily for everybody, it had gone very, _very_ right. Gwen had immediately started teasing him about his "glow" when he showed up late for work that Sunday, and hadn't stopped pestering him since for more information. They'd been working opposite shifts the past few weeks, and there hadn't been nearly enough time for gossip.

With one last check in the mirror to make sure he was presentable, Merlin mentally prepared himself for the next few hours. It wasn't like it would be torture, after all. Gwen was pretty much his closest friend, and there were worse things Merlin could be doing than grabbing a few beers with her at a pub on a Friday night. Gwen had texted him the address of the pub earlier that morning and had promised that she wouldn't make him stay for more than two drinks. 

Merlin shivered in the cold, late-winter air and pulled his coat more firmly around himself. He checked his mobile again, double checking that he was heading in the right direction. Gwen had a thing for trying out new places. Every time they met up, it was in a completely different restaurant or club or pub. Personally, Merlin preferred a bit more stability, but he didn't mind giving Gwen this one indulgence. At least he'd managed to expand his knowledge of the city and all of its various offerings. It did, however, mean that he usually had absolutely no clue where they were supposed to actually meet up.

This time, the address took him to a nicer part of London. As he turned down the street of the pub, Merlin couldn't help but note that he wasn't far from Arthur's house. A shiver that had nothing to do with the brisk cold slid down his spine. He still felt gloriously balanced from his session with Arthur, though the ache in his arse and the bruises on the backs of his thighs had long since faded. He wondered how long his center would last, how long it would be until he felt that pressing need to submit. Part of him hoped it was soon, that he would have another chance to play with Arthur before Morgana fully healed. The rest of him, however, realised that the very fact that he was so desperate to see Arthur again was reason enough not to. Merlin knew what happened when you let people in. 

The pub was dark and cosy. It was a little bit nicer than Gwen's usual picks, but Merlin figured he could afford to splurge a little. 

He paused at the entrance, doing a quick sweep of the patrons and stopping when he spotted Gwen. She was sitting at a corner table with two empty chairs, conversing with a ridiculously pretty man with dark hair and kind eyes that seemed to glow at her as she gesticulated. Merlin huffed a laugh. It looked like Merlin might be able to escape sooner than anticipated. 

Seeing that Gwen already had a full pint in front of her, Merlin ordered a beer from the bar before making his way over to the corner where he had spotted Gwen and her admirer.

By the time he finally managed to break through the crowd, one of the empty chairs at the table had been filled by a bloke with broad-shoulders and blond hair. His back was to Merlin, but Merlin felt that there was something familiar about that head of golden hair…

Before he had a chance to place it, Gwen was leaping out of her seat.

"Merlin!" She pulled him into a quick hug before dragging him over to the table. "I got here a little early, and I was looking for a table when these two gentlemen offered to let us sit at their's. Isn't that sweet?"

"Absolutely," Merlin said with a smile. His eyes, though, were more assessing as he looked straight into the eyes of the attractive brunet. It wasn't exactly difficult to imagine why two blokes might offer gorgeous Gwen a seat at their table. Sure, it was nice, as long as they didn't plan on taking advantage. The man looked back at him with wide, honest eyes and Merlin felt himself soften. He really was very pretty.

"This is Lance." 

The dark haired man offered his hand, his handshake surprising warm and firm. "It's nice to meet you...Merlin, was it?"

Merlin nodded. Despite his suspicious nature, he had to admit that this Lance bloke seemed alright. His smile was genuine, and his eyes held nothing but warmth and curiosity as they flicked between Merlin and Gwen. Merlin smiled to himself, wondering if Lance was worried about competition for Gwen's affection.

"And this," Gwen announced pulling Merlin out of his reverie, "is—"

"We've met." 

It was the other bloke, the one sitting right next to Merlin that he'd somehow managed to completely forget about. But Merlin knew that voice, and now he knew why the bloke had seemed so familiar, even from behind. If he were honest with himself, Merlin was a little surprised he hadn't recognised him right away. Must be the fatigue.

Slowly, he turned to face Arthur, bracing himself, though he wasn't sure what for. Perhaps it was against Arthur's ridiculously attractive body, an attribute only enhanced by the tight, navy button-up and tight dark blue jeans. His eyes sparkled with amusement and something else that made Merlin's heart trip up when their gazes caught.

"Arthur. It's...nice to see you again."

"Arthur?" Gwen asked, voice shrill and eyes wide. " _This_ is your Arthur?"

Merlin could feel his cheeks heating up as Arthur's eyebrows rose and his lips curved upwards into a smile. 

"He's hardly, _mine_ ," Merin protested, uncomfortable with the intimacies that implied.

Arthur only smirked. "I see my reputation proceeds me."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Gwen only knows about you because she was my safety net that weekend."

"I was supposed to be getting all the dirty details tonight," Gwen explained with a conspiratorial grin. Merlin glared at her.

"Ahh, I see."

"I don't," Lance said, his brows furrowed as he looked between the three of them.

"Well, I'm certainly not telling you anything _now_ , am I?" Merlin looked pointedly at Lance and Arthur. Gwen gave an exaggerated sigh of capitulation.

"Fine. But you owe me a latte next shift. A proper one, not that rubbish from the cafeteria."

"Deal." 

Arthur chuckled.

"So is anybody going to tell me how you two know each other?" Lance asked.

Arthur paused, glancing over at Merlin and seeming unsure of how to proceed. It was actually kind of sweet, Arthur not wanting to cross any boundaries Merlin might have. 

"We fucked," Merlin said bluntly, taking the responsibility out of Arthur's hands.

Lance's eyes widened, and Gwen choked on a swig of her beer. This immediately drew Lance's attention, his voice concerned as he asked if she was alright.

Arthur leaned in close, his breath a molten whisper against Merlin's ear. "You really _aren't_ submissive outside of the bedroom, are you?"

Merlin shot him what he hoped was an unimpressed glare. Given how flustered Merlin felt by Arthur's proximity though, he wasn't sure he'd managed it. Beneath the table their thighs were not quite touching, but Merlin could feel the heat radiating off of him. It reminded Merlin of that morning, of waking up in Arthur's bed in a fiery cocoon of blankets, Arthur's hard, naked body tangled up with his own. 

Merlin let out a long, slow exhale of breath, trying to focus and rid the seductive memories from his brain. Across the table, Lance had managed to pull Gwen into conversation, the both of them lighting up at whatever the subject was. They were cute together, Merlin had to admit.

"You know," Arthur murmured, reminding Merlin that his face was still angled close to Merlin's own, "I've been waiting for your call."

Merlin turned to face him, bringing their mouths just inches apart. "My call?" Merlin asked dazedly, his mind gone fuzzy from their proximity.

"To set up another scene."

"Oh. Well, I don't need another one yet."

Arthur's gaze turned thoughtful. "You know, Merlin, you are allowed to have something just because you want it. You don't have to wait until you need it."

Merlin furrowed his brow. Arthur's words were alluring and hypnotic. He knew that he was wrong, that there was a reason Merlin didn't allow himself to give in whenever he felt like it. But for the life of him, Merlin couldn't remember why that was. All he could think about was the swoop in his belly when Arthur had put him over his lap, about the utter contentment he'd felt when Arthur commanded him not to come until Arthur had given permission. The truth was, he did want. He wanted very much.

"So, how do you know...Lance, was it?"

"From Uni. We played football together. There's a group of us that try to meet up once a month or so for a pint. The others were busy tonight, so it's just me and Lance."

"Football, huh? I suppose that's not surprising. Let me guess, you were captain?"

Arthur grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Three years running."

"Impressive."

"I take it you weren't one for sports?"

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the teasing expression on Arthur's face. He couldn't manage to feel offended, though. It wasn't like Arthur was wrong.

"I focussed my talents on more cerebral pursuits."

Arthur snorted. "Ah, well, I should probably ask what cerebral means then, since I'm such a dumb footballer and all."

Merlin let out a huff of laughter. "Oh, piss off."

"No, no, this is good. I've always wondered what those rectangular blocks are that people are always carrying around with them. The ones with all the paper and the black scribbles? I've never been able to make heads or tales of them, personally, though some of them have _pictures_. I quite like those."

Merlin laughed for real then, a ridiculous sound that echoed through his chest. Arthur was _funny_. He didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't know how to feel about the fond, pleased little smile that flitted over Arthur's face when he made Merlin laugh, either.

"What's so funny over there?" Gwen asked, her expression annoyingly knowing.

"Nothing. Just explaining the appeal of books to Arthur here."

Lance and Gwen gave them puzzled looks as Arthur nodded solemnly next to him. 

"Clever things, these books. Astounding."

Merlin bit his lip on a smile as Gwen and Lance turned back towards one another warily, as if afraid of catching whatever strange conversation disease that had clearly infected Merlin and Arthur. 

Merlin scrounged around in his brain for a new topic. He realised that their previous interactions had been fairly focussed on scenes and etiquette. Merlin didn't actually know very much about Arthur, beyond what he'd noticed and assumed. He wasn't even sure what Arthur actually did for a living.

"You know I'm a nurse, but I'm afraid I don't actually know what your profession is."

Arthur looked at him, his eyes alight with laughter. "I work in publishing."

Merlin's eyes went wide. "Seriously?"

Arthur smiled and nodded before taking a long draught of his beer.

"I suppose you're familiar with the concept of books then."

"Marginally."

Merlin rolled his eyes and couldn't stop the fond smile that crossed over his face. "And here I was thinking that I'd really helped somebody."

"Don't sell yourself short, Merlin. I'm sure you helped _somebody_ at the hospital today."

"Ugh, too many somebodies if you ask me. I'm bloody exhausted. But we weren't talking about me."

"We weren't?" Arthur teased. "But you're so interesting."

"No, I'm really not. And we were talking about _you_.How did you get into publishing?"

A strange expression stole over Arthur's face, a shadow flickering over his face for the briefest moment before disappearing into a smile. "It's a family business, actually. My father is what one might call a publishing magnate. I'm essentially his only child, so it's up to me to manage it all when he goes."

"Sounds like a lot of pressure. What about Morgana? Isn't she your sister or...something?"

Arthur grimaced. "Her father and mine were actually business partners. Her parents died in a car crash when we were little, and my father was her _god_ father, so Morgana came to live with us. My father raised her as if she was his own daughter." Arthur's lips twisted wryly. "He'd been grooming us both to take over the company together. Morgana never cared much for it, but she felt like she owed it to the memory of her father, and to Uther for raising her. Of course, that was before she came across some...letters, when she was going through a box of her mother's old things that revealed some interesting facts about her parentage."

Merlin's eyes widened in realisation, and Arthur nodded in acknowledgement. "Yeah, it wasn't pretty. She still can barely stand to be in the same room as Uther, after he lied to her for all those years."

"I'm sorry, Arthur. It can't be easy having your two closest family members at odds."

Arthur shrugged. "They'll come around eventually." He brought his glass to his lips and drained the rest of his beer in one swallow. Merlin hated the way his gaze stuck on the seductive bob of Arthur's throat. 

"Anyone want another? My shout."

Gwen looked over at Merlin, begging with her eyes to stay a little longer. She was clearly getting along smashingly with Lance. He nodded.

"That would be great, Arthur," Gwen said. 

Arthur melted into the crowd, and Merlin pondered his clever closing of the subject. Clearly his job, his father, or likely both, were sensitive topics. It only made Merlin more curious, but Merlin had his own sore subjects, and he wasn't keen to push.

When Arthur came back, they moved to safer waters. They talked about movies and music and their favourite books. Arthur had a penchant for classics, for Hardy and Dickens and Dumas. They argued over _Jude the Obscure_ and _Great Expectations_ , and it wasn't until Merlin had finished his third beer of the night that his week finally started to catch up with him. His eyelids felt leaden and he knew if he didn't head home soon, he would fall asleep right there on the table.

"I think I'd better get going. It's been a long week," Merlin announced, something surprisingly like regret settling inside of him. He'd been having fun. He felt irrationally pleased to see the same trace of disappointment lingering in Arthur's eyes.

Gwen nodded in agreement, and they made their goodbyes. Gwen and Lance pulled out their mobiles to exchange numbers, and Merlin politely turned away while they traded their shy farewells.

"It was lovely running into you, Merlin," Arthur murmured. He pressed close as somebody passed behind him, staying there even after the man had moved on. Merlin wasn't sure if he wanted to step back or move even closer, until there wasn't a lick of space between them. Instead, he stayed perfectly still.

"It was nice seeing you again, too."

Arthur grinned, as if Merlin had said something particularly witty. He tilted his head, his lips brushing against the shell of Merlin's ear and causing Merlin's whole body to shudder. 

"Call me, Merlin. I'd like to see you again. Soon."

Merlin blinked at him, but before he could formulate a response, Gwen was dragging him out the door. He waved halfheartedly at Arthur and Lance as Gwen steered them through the crush of people, his mind a hazy storm of exhaustion and arousal.

There was one thing Merlin knew, though, as he walked through the freezing streets towards home. 

Arthur, and the way Arthur made Merlin feel, was trouble.

No matter how much he might want to, there was no way Merlin was going to call Arthur.


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin called Arthur.

He didn't even make it two days. Despite his many, thorough, reasoned arguments detailing why calling Arthur was a _bad idea_ , Merlin couldn't help the pull he felt towards him. After years of carefully restricting himself, he was unable to escape the appeal of giving in and indulging. He wanted so damn much, and Arthur wanted him to have. Wanted him to take. 

Arthur sounded far too smug when Merlin had finally given in. Merlin almost considered claiming to have dialed the wrong number just to spite him. Almost. 

Instead, he'd set up a scene with Arthur for Friday night after work. He had Saturday off, which meant he would have the day to recover from whatever Arthur might do to him. It had been a little uncomfortable trying to do his job with Arthur's marks fresh on his thighs the last time.

Arthur looked just as handsome as Merlin remembered when he opened the door to his home. Merlin noticed that Arthur was barefoot, and his brain apparently decided to focus on this mundane detail. There was something so vulnerable and weirdly sensual about Arthur's bare, exposed feet. Something about the fine, protruding bones, the smattering of pale hair, and the masculine toes peaking out from beneath sinfully soft-looking yoga pants that made Merlin's mouth run dry.

Excitement raced through Merlin's veins as they mounted the staircase towards the familiar bedroom. There were several bottles of water on the dresser, along with various other items, but before Merlin had a chance to look closer, Arthur blocked his view.

"Strip," Arthur commanded. "Slowly."

Merlin bit his lip on a snarky retort and did as commanded. He felt ridiculous trying to sensually strip off his shirt, but he pushed down his discomfort. This wasn't about him. It was always a little bit of a struggle, letting go of his control, but once he did...well, Merlin knew that it was worth it. 

In front of him, Arthur stood with his arms crossed, feet shoulder-width apart, and expression stony as Merlin unbuttoned his jeans and peeled his pants off. He kicked his clothing next to the sofa, standing naked and silent in front of Arthur, his prick slowly fattening up with anticipation.

Arthur walked over to the dresser with slow, measured steps and grabbed one of the items. He held it up for Merlin to see as he walked closer. _Padded handcuffs._

"I'm going to bind your hands together behind your back."

Merlin nodded, almost eagerly, and crossed his arms together behind him. Arthur studied him, a finger at his lips.

"Kneel."

The floor below him was richly carpeted, and the material was soft and plush beneath his knees. Arthur walked around him and crouched down, his fingers wrapping around Merlin's wrists as he fastened the padded cuffs. It was crazy, the way Merlin's pulse skittered at the soft touch. Merlin was completed naked, but it was the gentle glide of Arthur's thumb against Merlin's inner wrist that made Merlin feel exposed.

The cuffs locked, securing Merlin's arms behind his back. He did the obligatory tugging, testing the bonds. They stayed firm, as expected. 

Arthur moved back around to face Merlin, this time dangling a strip of cloth. He must've grabbed it from the dresser when he'd gotten the handcuffs. The slightly distorted shape indicated that this was no ordinary bit of fabric

"Alright? I know you mentioned that you didn't like total sensory deprivation. But you also said you enjoyed a bit of blindfolding?" There was the barest lift in tone, telling Merlin that Arthur really was asking if this was alright with him, not commanding.

Merlin looked at the soft material of the blindfold, imagined putting it on and giving his sight to Arthur. Something inside of him purred at the thought. He nodded.

Arthur's eyes twinkled, his lips quirking into a pleased smile. "Excellent."

He circled Merlin, fastening the blindfold with quick accuracy. The cloth was cool and soft against his skin. Darkness flooded his vision like blots of ink, completely obscuring his surroundings.

"How's that?" Arthur murmured. His voice was much nearer than Merlin had been expecting, his lips just inches away from Merlin's ear.

"Green."

Already, Merlin could feel the sweet tug of oblivion pulling him under. Without the use of his arms or his eyes, he was entirely at Arthur's mercy. Arthur's fingers trailed through Merlin's hair, and Merlin couldn't help but press up into the sensation like a cat.

Arthur chuckled fondly. "I've got a few things to take care of in my office. I want you to stay here, just like this, until I get back."

Merlin's whole body tingled at the command. He nodded.

"Good boy."

Arthur ruffled Merlin's hair as he walked out of the room, and something at the very centre of Merlin flared hot and bright. Arthur's fingers in his hair, calling him _good_ , leaving him there to wait for however long Arthur wanted...it was all so much. He knew it wouldn't be difficult to work himself up into an anxious, lustful frenzy, need coiling tight in his belly until he was ready to pop without Arthur even being in the same room. That wasn't what he wanted, though, it wasn't why he came here.

He focused on his breathing, in and out, in and out, slow and even until his heart rate calmed. Arousal still flowed through him, but it was a steady stream instead of a raging current. Merlin let himself settle into the silence and darkness, into the stillness and the wait. It wasn't his place to question, to wonder what would happen next, or feel anxious about how much time had passed. His only responsibility was to be, to exist in this moment and stay as still as possible. It was always so impossibly, beautifully freeing when he reached this point, when he finally let his rational mind drop away.

It felt like hours had passed by the time Merlin heard the soft patter of returning footsteps. The noise was fuzzy and muffled, like his brain couldn't quite register the sudden hint of sound in the silence. Merlin didn't move, not even when the footsteps stopped right in front of him, and the solid presence of Arthur's looming figure was undeniable.

"You did so good, staying still for me," Arthur murmured, his voice dripping like warm honey down Merlin's spine. "I think you deserve a reward." 

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/gracerene/60413356/33956/33956_original.jpg)

Merlin's mouth watered at the whoosh and rustle of Arthur's sweatpants sliding off his hips and hitting the floor.

"Open up."

Merlin tilted his head up and opened his mouth, pleasure fluttering through him at the ragged rasp of Arthur's unsteady breath. He felt the warm, fleshy tip of Arthur's cock brush against his lower lip, and he couldn't resist the urge to swipe his tongue along the head. Precome burst on his tongue, salty-sour.

"Get me wet." Arthur's steely tone made Merlin's cock throb between his thighs. 

He licked the thick shaft with broad, messy strokes and tiny, kitten curls. The skin was fever-hot as he mouthed up the side and swirled his tongue along the large vein underneath. It wasn't until he began suckling on the head, teasing the glans with his mouth, that Arthur finally commanded him to stop. 

Arthur rubbed a thumb over one of Merlin's cheekbones, and the gesture felt soft and intimate. It made Merlin's chest feel like it was stuck in a vice. The thumb trailed down the side of his face until it reached Merlin's chin, pressing down gently until Merlin's mouth dropped obediently open.

"You have such a lovely mouth," Arthur murmured softly. "I'm going to fuck it."

Merlin opened his mouth wider and extended his tongue in clear invitation. He wanted to please Arthur, wanted to let Arthur fuck his mouth with an absolute urgency that would have terrified him if he'd been in his right mind. But here, now, floating in a sea of comforting darkness, there wasn't room for fear. All of Merlin's hangups, his carefully cultivated distance, his pain and his past, none of that mattered in this perfect, eternal moment. This was what Merlin lived for. This feeling of pure freedom, of joy and weightlessness, his soul breaking loose from his body to soar among the birds.

Arthur's cock slid inside and he tasted like sunshine and warmth and everything good in the world. His hands wound their way into Merlin's hair, gripping and pulling and guiding Merlin up and down Arthur's thick erection. Occasionally Arthur's fingers would flex and the strands would pull tights against his scalp. Merlin couldn't help but shudder when that happened, and Arthur would growl and do it again, harder, rougher. Merlin loved the pain, loved the way it prickled all down his neck, the way it sparked across his skin, the way it made his cock twitch and throb. His jaw ached, too, and it wasn't as sharply satisfying at the sting in his scalp, but it still made Merlin's belly flip. Arthur was big. He couldn't see it, but he could sense the heavy weight of Arthur on his tongue, could feel the wide pull of his lips around the shaft, could taste every glorious inch of him pumping in and out of Merlin's mouth.

He had stamina, too. Or at least, it seemed like he did. It was impossible to gauge how much time had passed since Merlin had descended into darkness, since Arthur began using his mouth and murmuring filthy endearments. It felt like forever, a sublime eternity of electricity dancing over his skin and lust winding up in his gut, coiling tighter and tighter.

Too soon, it was over.

Arthur fucked in deep, broad hands holding Merlin's head in place as he spilled thick and sticky down Merlin's throat. 

"Fuck," Arthur groaned, as he pulled his softening cock out of Merlin's mouth.

Merlin stayed where he was, kneeling and sightless and panting for breath. He missed Arthur's hands on him, pulling his hair, but he still had the lingering ache in his jaw and the burn in his shoulders from his restraints. His cock was hard, dripping precome down the inside of his thigh. He felt simultaneously completely relaxed and wound impossibly tight. 

A warm, wet hand wrapped around Merlin's erection, and he whimpered with relief. Arthur squeezed the heated flesh, his hand beginning to move up in down in a slow, sensual rhythm that Merlin felt in his core.

"You're so good for me, Merlin, so perfect. God, the way you look on your knees for me, bound and blindfolded and gagging for my cock." Merlin gasped and started rocking slightly into Arthur's hands, wild for his own end. "You'd do anything for me like this, wouldn't you? Fuck, you're so sweet, so beautiful."

Merlin didn't even have it in himself to blush or protest or raise up his defenses. He was entirely vulnerable, his very essence split open and resting in Arthur's perfectly formed hands. Hands that moved faster and faster along his cock, gripping and pulling him, rubbing and squeezing him, working him over until all that existed was heat and friction and the startling force of his orgasm burning through him like dragonfire.

He had always liked the afterwards, floating along at the unimaginable heights his orgasm managed to catapult him to. When he finally came back down to a more cognisant height, the blindfold was gone and his arms were unbound. Arthur coaxed him up off the floor and over to his bed, where he propped him up among a mound of feathery pillows. Arthur curled up next to him, massaging his arms, coaxing sips of water down his throat, and murmuring soft words of praise and pleasure.

Merlin felt indescribably warm and content. He felt like the palest, purest golden yellow, the colour of perfect summer afternoons spent lazing in the sun, of weathered pages in ancient books, of fresh straw, and blond hair beneath a gleaming crown. Merlin shook his head. He always felt a little loopy when he came back from subspace. It was like he was high, what with feeling like a colour, and random images flashing through his mind almost like memory. 

It had been a long time since a scene had dropped him so far. Not even Morgana, with her undeniable flogging skills, had managed to get him to let go this much. It hadn't been since Will that Merlin had given in so thoroughly. Merlin wasn't sure what to think about that. Arthur hadn't even hit him, had barely hurt him at all, and Merlin had sunk like a stone into blissful oblivion. What would happen if he used a whip or a switch? How much deeper could Merlin go?

"Why did you become a nurse?" Arthur asked, hours or maybe just minutes later, when Merlin's breath had slowed and his mind hovered somewhere between asleep and awake.

"Hmm?

"I was curious what made you decide to become a nurse? Did you always want to be one? Did you drive your parents mad trying diagnose them as a child?"

Merlin smiled drowsily. "No, I wanted to be a wizard when I was wee."

"A wizard?"

"Well, with a name like Merlin, could you blame me? I was obsessed with the story. I'd make my mother read it to me every night. I think she was terrified that I'd try and jump off the roof or something to test my _magic_."

"That poor woman."

"Yeah. But I grew out of that, thank God. I was actually studying history, before...I was going to be a teacher."

"What changed your mind?" Arthur's hand moved slowly, steadily over Merlin's arms. The soothing motion helped ground him, helped him stay in the present and not get dragged back into painful memories.

"I was—a friend of mine died, my first semester at Uni," Merlin said after a pause. It was hard to explain without telling at least part of the story, but Merlin wasn't ready to tell Arthur everything. "We were...close, and I was kind of a mess afterwards. I ended up dropping out and moving back in with my mum. We had this next door neighbour, Gaius. He's this old no-nonsense hippy type." Merlin smiled as he thought of Gaius with his white hair, wrinkled face, and stern kindness. He still exchanged letters with him, real, old-fashioned snail mail letters that Merlin kept in a shoebox on his desk. "Anyway, he owns this natural medicine, herbal remedy-type store, and I started spending a lot of time there, helping him out with things. It was...therapeutic, feeling like I was doing something important, that I was helping people. I realised that I wanted to do that for real, make a career out of it. So I decided to go back to school, become a nurse."

Arthur hummed in acknowledgement, and Merlin could tell he was itching to ask more questions. Merlin hoped he wouldn't. He wasn't ready to come back to reality. He wanted to bask in the afterglow for a little while longer. 

Thankfully, Arthur stayed silent, letting Merlin keep his beautiful, blissful calm as he sank into sleep.

+++

Arthur could cook.

Merlin had been sure that Arthur would have a cook to make his meals, but the next morning, Arthur was the one making coffee and eggs in the kitchen. Merlin tried not to stare, but the image was too fascinating. 

"How do you like your eggs?" Arthur asked with an easy smile.

"Uh...scrambled, please."

"Of course. There's sugar in that bowl there and milk in the fridge for coffee." Merlin stared at the empty mug for long moments, trying to reconcile this strangely domestic Arthur with the demanding businessman image in his head. "I've also got tea, if you'd rather…" Merlin looked up to see Arthur gazing at him with curious eyes.

"Oh, coffee's fine, thanks. Sorry, it takes me a little while to get going in the mornings."

Arthur grinned in amusement. "Not a morning person, Merlin?"

"Is anyone?"

Arthur chuckled. "My father is, but I'm not sure that's really a ringing endorsement for mornings."

Merlin added a heaping spoonful of sugar to his coffee and stirred slowly. "Do you not get along with your father? I thought you worked for him."

This time, Merlin was looking for it, and he wasn't disappointed when that familiar spasm of complex emotion skittered across Arthur's face at the mention of his father. Like all the other times, it was gone in a flash.

"I do." Arthur gazed intently at the eggs for a moment. "It's not that we don't get along. But my father's always had very...exacting standards. I rebelled against that when I first graduated from Uni. Wanted to travel and explore and discover the world on my own. Things were difficult between us for awhile. It's been...an adjustment coming back home, working for him."

Melin sipped his coffee thoughtfully. He wondered what Arthur's childhood had been like, growing up with a man like that as his father. It was clear that Arthur cared deeply for his father, but he didn't seem like an easy man, nor an indulgent one. He supposed that was a good trait for a man to have when running a publishing empire, but as a father...Merlin felt the sudden and bizarre urge to go over and wrap his arms around Arthur. 

"What about you?" Arthur asked a moment later, as he dished up scrambled eggs onto matching porcelain plates. "Do you get along with your father?"

"I never knew my dad." He watched Arthur expectantly, waiting for the embarrassed surprise and sympathy. He cut Arthur off before he could offer his condolences. "He left before I was born; it was just my mother and I. She's great, though. I couldn't have asked for a better mum."

Arthur smiled, but it was sad and almost wistful. They ate their eggs in silence for several moments until he said, "My mother died in childbirth. I never knew her."

Merlin's chest went tight. He thought of his own mother, his kind, brilliant, loving mum. The woman who had raised him single-handed, who'd been his anchor when grief and guilt had threatened to drag him out to sea, who'd supported him when he'd needed to move away and start over, even though it meant he'd be leaving home. He couldn't imagine not knowing her, couldn't imagine how he would have survived without her. His heart ached for Arthur. He reached across the table and squeezed his hand, knowing that being there for somebody meant so much more than empty platitudes. Arthur quirked a small, grateful smile at him, and something inside of Merlin went hot and melty.

He pulled his hand away and made a show of drinking his coffee, trying to cover his sudden blush. What was it about Arthur that made him feel so off-balance? 

They finished their breakfast in companionable silence. Merlin ate slowly, feeling strangely reluctant to leave the comfortable bubble of Arthur's home. In the real world, Merlin had work to do and bills to pay and a (likely) angry cat to feed. Here, though, he didn't have responsibilities or worries or cares. He just had eggs to eat.

"Alright," Arthur murmured, stretching his arms upwards. His shirt rode up, exposing a strip of firm belly. Merlin's breath caught, and he looked away. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay. I should probably get going anyway. My cat's not going to be happy that I didn't come home last night."

"You have a cat?"

"Yes. His name's Kilgharrah."

Arthur grinned. "That's adorable."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, his claws come out when he feels neglected, so I should really head home."

"Okay." Arthur gathered the dishes and set them into the empty sink before turning back around. "Don't take so long to call me next time, Merlin."

Arthur ruffled Merlin's hair on the way out of the kitchen and Merlin felt his head tilt upwards, as if expecting a goodbye kiss. His stomach dropped as he realised what he was doing. He froze, staying perfectly still until Arthur disappeared into the hallway.

As soon as he heard Arthur's footsteps on the stairs, he bolted out the door. 

This was already spinning out of control and they'd only done two scenes together. He hadn't felt so in tune with somebody since Will, and even then...Merlin popped that thought before it had a chance to bubble up to the surface. Nothing good lay down that path, and he was freaking out enough as it is.

He vowed, as he boarded the bus home, that he would keep his distance from Arthur. Merlin was still flying high from last night, and he was sure that he could go weeks without needing another session. He thought of Arthur's teasing grin as he told Merlin that he was allowed to have things when he wanted them, not just when he needed them and scowled, hard enough to draw curious stares from the nearby passengers. He ignored them. 

What did Arthur know about it? He'd probably never had to show restraint a day in his life. Rich, handsome boy like him? He probably only had to think of something before it showed up on a silver platter. Merlin lived in the real world, where actions had consequences, and you were lucky to get what you needed, forget about what you wanted.

Merlin had been down this road before. He had gotten in too deep, and it was all taken away. Worse, it had been entirely his fault. He hadn't appreciated what he'd had, he'd been greedy and wanted more, and somebody else had paid the price. He wouldn't go through that again. He wouldn't survive the pain. He didn't deserve to get what he wanted.

So, he would stay away from Arthur. It would all be fine.

His mobile vibrated, and he pulled it from his pocket. It was a message from Arthur. Merlin's stomach did a ridiculous flip. 

_You were lovely last night. I hope to hear from you soon._

He was so fucked.


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin wasn't sure how it started, but somehow he and Arthur began texting regularly throughout the day.

No, that wasn't true, he knew exactly how it started.

It started with Merlin being a dolt and responding to Arthur's first text, all those weeks ago, the one that came right after Merlin had vowed to keep his distance. Merlin had stared at the screen all the way back home, wondering what to do, telling himself he should just ignore it but unable to put the mobile back in his pocket. He'd reasoned that texting didn't _technically_ require him to be close to Arthur (because it was _physical_ distance that Merlin needed to keep, obviously) and that surely one little reply couldn't do any harm. 

He'd sent back a picture of Kilgharrah, looking lazy and smug next to a shredded curtain. The light pouring in from the unobscured window made Kilgharrah look quite impressive, reflecting off the subtle golden streaks in his fur in a most becoming way. It was almost enough to distract Merlin from the fact that this was the third set of curtains Kilgharrah had destroyed in a fit of pique. Almost.

But Arthur had seemed appropriately charmed, and he'd responded immediately, thus beginning their fervent and frequent correspondence. 

Every day Merlin waited with pulsing anticipation for his mobile to buzz with an incoming text. He loved hearing about the "idiots" that Arthur worked with, the whinging he had to put up with from Morgana about her arm, and his thoughts about whatever book he was currently reading. It turned out that Arthur had an opinion on just about everything, and every little bit of information he shared only made him all the more fascinating in Merlin's eyes. Hell, he was beginning to think that Arthur could send him detailed texts about what he'd eaten that day for breakfast, and Merlin would only sigh dreamily at his cleverness. It was getting ridiculous.

He hated it and loved it and most days he wasn't sure which feeling was stronger. Because as much as his every interaction with Arthur filled him with a sort of underlying dread, Merlin had never felt more at home in his own skin. In addition to the texting, they had been meeting up once, sometimes twice, a week. Arthur had tied him up and edged him until he thought he might cry, a vibrator pulsing against his prostate with unbearable accuracy. He'd bent Merlin over his ostentatious sofa and worked him over with a gorgeous leather belt before coming all over his reddened arse and using his own come to bring Merlin off. Two nights ago, he had made Merlin hold onto the slats in his headboard and stay perfectly still while Arthur gave him the world's longest, wettest, most mind-melting blowjob. It had been an exquisite torture having Arthur's lips and tongue work him over, knowing that if he moved a muscle, Arthur would stop. When he'd finally come, Merlin thought he might actually pass out from the bone-wringing pleasure of it all.

The sex and the submission had given Merlin a spring in his step, and other people were noticing. His coworkers kept commenting on how happy he seemed lately, and even his mother had noted over their Skype session last week that she was happy to see him looking so much healthier. Gwen's eyes practically twinkled with mischievous pleasure every time she saw him, but she never pushed him on it. Merlin knew it was only because _she_ had been positively glowing with the first flush of a new relationship, and was hoping that Merlin wouldn't grill her about it if she showed him the same courtesy. He'd already shaken down Arthur for information on this Lance bloke though, and as far as he could tell, Lance was a decent man. Which was good, because Merlin was far too busy floating on his own sex high to preoccupy himself with pretty much anything else.

Merlin hadn't felt so well satisfied since before he moved to London...since Will. 

In fact—and this was only something Merlin admitted to himself in the deepest, darkest hour of the night, in the farthest recess of his heart—even Will hadn't managed to bring him to these heights. The truth was, Merlin had been beginning to feel dissatisfied with his relationship with Will towards the end. He loved him, no doubt, but they'd known each other since they were in diapers, and they'd been together almost as long. Will was Merlin's first kiss, his first tentative grope and awkwardly pleasurable fuck. Will was the one person who'd known all of Merlin's secrets, and when Merlin had confessed that he wanted to try something a little different, Will had been there, exploring those things with him. Will had been mad about him, and he'd wanted to give Merlin whatever he wanted, whatever he needed. But Merlin could tell that Will hadn't loved their scenes the way Merlin did. He had known that Will felt guilty about hurting him, that he struggled to top him the way Merlin had wanted. Merlin had loved Will, so he hadn't pushed for more, hadn't begged for harder, hadn't suggested they try out more intimidating toys. 

It had been alright, for awhile. Merlin was still able to submit, still had lovely, wonderful Will giving him most of what he'd needed. He had Will's love and companionship, and Will had still been game for doing scenes. He had never complained or made Merlin feel embarrassed or ashamed. For a while, it had been perfect.

That hadn't lasted forever.

Merlin had wanted more, and eventually that desire, that need, really, became stronger and stronger. It had no longer been enough to have the man he loved standing over him. He'd needed to push farther, to be taken down harder. He had needed things that he'd known Will would never be comfortable giving. Merlin had begun to realise that this part of him wasn't something he could just suppress forever. He had known, with a sinking, inevitable clarity, that no mattered how much he loved Will, he'd never be truly satisfied with him. 

The realisation had gutted him, because he had known how much it would gut Will. Merlin had felt wracked with guilt, knowing that he would have to break up with Will, terrified about going through with it, terrified about _not_ going through with it. Will had been his family, and Merlin didn't know how he would survive without him. But back then he'd known. He had known that if he _stayed_ with Will, that was just what he would be doing; surviving, not truly living.

He'd been planning on doing it that night, when the drunk driver lost control of his car. 

They'd been walking back to their flat after a late night dinner out. Merlin had been distant and quiet for weeks, and Will had picked up on his strange mood, but hadn't pushed, waiting for Merlin to come to him. Merlin had put off the conversation for too long, and he'd known it was time. It was a Friday, which meant they'd have the whole weekend to talk and fight and figure things out. He had felt sick with nerves, jittery and jumpy and completely out of touch with everything around him.

He hadn't seen the car come careening around the corner. Merlin had been off in his own world, rehearsing what he would say, trying to find the perfect combination of words that would allow him to keep Will in his life, that would make what he had to say okay.

It wasn't until the car was almost on him, that he had noticed the flare of headlights, the distant screams, the burning smell of exhaust and rubber. For the briefest of impossible moments, when he had finally realised what was happening—that he was about to die—he'd felt a flicker of gratitude. He wouldn't have to break Will's heart. He wouldn't have to say the words aloud and cause that pain. Merlin had closed his eyes.

Something had shoved him hard from the side, and he'd gone flying. He remembered his eyes shooting open and his arms reaching out to brace himself as he crashed hard into the pavement, head cracking against the asphalt. Merlin's ears had rang and his vision had blurred. He'd sprawled there stunned, unsure of what had just happened, unable to process how he was still alive.

Then the fog had begun to clear. The air had smelled sharp and metallic and hot. Merlin could hear a wet, shuddering gasp, a woman sobbing, a man yelling for somebody to call an ambulance. He'd rolled onto his back, feeling something thick and wet slide down his forehead. That gasp again. His name. Will. Horror had gripped him, his insides turning to glass as he managed to orient himself to face the noise. His head had spun as he tried to kneel up, black spots crowding his vision as he'd made out a bloody, gasping form, ten yards away, wearing Will's favourite jumper. 

It had been a nightmare. Worse than a nightmare, because it had been real. Merlin had watched Will die, had seen the light flicker out of his eyes, unable to do anything more than kneel there helplessly at his side. Will had saved him. He'd sacrificed himself to save Merlin's life, and Merlin hadn't deserved it. Merlin had been planning to break up with him. He was going to turn Will's world upside down because Will wouldn't hurt him. Merlin was despicable, he was scum. Will was selfless and good and so full of love, and Merlin would have thrown him away. Will died thinking he was saving the love of his life, and it was all a lie. Would he still have saved Merlin if he'd known what Merlin had planned?

Merlin had struggled since Will's death. It had been years, but the guilt had never completely faded. For months afterward, he'd loathed himself, wishing he had died in Will's place, believing that's what was supposed to have happened. Even now, after years of therapy, after moving to a new city where everything didn't remind him of Will, after find a profession to occupy his time and give his life purpose, he still sometimes wondered what Will would be doing now if he had lived. 

Since Will's death, Merlin hadn't had a serious relationship. He had sex when he needed to, and met up with Morgana as infrequently as he could get away with. His desire to submit had been what had driven a wedge between him and Will, and Merlin couldn't bear the thought of getting everything that he wanted, while Will had died. It wasn't fair, and Merlin didn't deserve to find somebody new, somebody better. How could he just move on when Will never would?

Which was why this thing with Arthur, the uptick in Merlin's heartbeat every time he got a text, the soaring pleasure of Arthur's hands on Merlin's skin, the flip in his belly whenever Arthur smiled that eye-crinkling smile at him, was dangerous.

Merlin was falling for Arthur, and that could not be allowed to happen.


	7. Chapter 7

Merlin was having a terrible day. 

Freya, one of his coworkers, had called in sick, so Merlin had to work a double. As if that wasn't bad enough, apparently Merlin had also missed the memo on "Expel Your Bodily Fluids All Over Your Nurse Day" that must have gone out to just about every single one of his patients. He was beyond exhausted, and despite the thorough shower he'd taken at work, he still felt dirty and gross. The only thing he wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed, and sleep for a week.

Unfortunately, his landlord had other plans for him. He was waiting for Merlin when he got home, tapping his scuffed leather shoes impatiently and expression pinched in annoyance.

"Mr Emrys, _where_ have you been?"

"Err, at work."

His landlord huffed dramatically, exasperation written in every line and crease of his overweight body. "Well, at least you're here now. I need to you to go in and get your cat so the fumigators can get started."

Merlin blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The _fumigators_ Mr Emrys, to deal with the termite problem."

Merlin stared back blankly. His mind was too muzzy from exhaustion to make any kind of sense of this conversation.

"Really, Mr Emrys, do keep up. We sent out all the necessary notices and documentation to our tenants months ago. We've hired some people to take care of the termite issue, and everybody needs to be off the premises for the next three days. Don't worry, your rent will be appropriately adjusted."

"Three days!"

"Yes. And we really need you to get a move on. You're lucky one of the men heard your cat's meowing. The fumes are quite poisonous you know."

Merlin's heart thudded. Poor Kilgharrah. "Yeah, sure, of course, just give me ten minutes to gather his things." _And my own_.

Merlin raced through his cramped flat on autopilot. He found Kilgharrah's crate and coaxed him inside with some catnip. While his cat was happily distracted, Merlin gathered up some food and toys for Kilgharrah and found a duffle bag to cram full of some of his own necessities. He supposed it was a good thing he hadn't been properly food shopping in ages; there wasn't really anything perishable he would need to throw out.

It wasn't until he was outside on the pavement, his duffle bag over his shoulder and his cat crate under his arm that the situation really hit him. He had to find somewhere to stay for the next three days. Fuck.

He didn't really have the money for a hotel, and most places wouldn't take his cat anyway. He thought about his friends, but though he was friendly enough with his coworkers, he hadn't made that many close friends since moving to London. Will's death had changed him, had made it harder for Merlin to open himself up. Out of all his new friends, Gwen was the only one he felt like he could ask for such a huge favour. Unfortunately, she was out of town at the moment on some weekend getaway with Lance.

Merlin began to walk aimlessly, his tired brain barely functioning as his feet took him across London. It wasn't until he stopped, the sun just beginning to set, that he realised where he had gone. 

Arthur. 

Merlin didn't know what to make of the fact that he turned to Arthur at the first sign of trouble, but he was too exhausted to make sense of it now. He didn't even have the energy to feel embarrassed as he walked up the steps and rang Arthur's bell. Merlin didn't even know if he was home, and showing up unannounced with a cat and an overnight bag was hardly acceptable behaviour, but it was too late to turn back now.

"Merlin?"

Arthur was wearing black trousers and a soft-looking dark green shirt that brought out the flecks of green in his eyes. Merlin's heart tripped over itself, before settling back into a quickened rhythm. 

"Um, hi."

"Is something wrong?" Arthur asked as he opened the door wider and gestured Merlin inside. His eyes widened as they took in the crate under Merlin's arm.

"I'm so sorry to just show up like this, but I didn't have anywhere else to go," Merlin blurted out. His voice was high, and he could hear the hysteria creeping in. He tried to take a breath and calm down, but the words bubbled out of him, choking him. "I'm so fucking tired, and my flat's being fumigated, and I have to take care of my cat, and I need somewhere to stay." He looked around wildly, at the posh foyer of Arthur's impossibly nice house. What the fuck was he doing here? Merlin didn't belong here. "I don't even know why I came here, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, I should go. This was a mistake."

He moved towards the door, trying to juggle his belongings so he could twist the damn knob, but Arthur put his hand on top of Merlin's, stilling it.

"Hey, it's alright. I've got plenty of space here. You can stay with me until your flat's ready, okay?"

Merlin nodded numbly. 

"Let's go into the kitchen, yeah? I was just about to start dinner. I'll start on something for the both of us, and you can let your cat out.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

Merlin followed Arthur into the kitchen, feeling tired, but strangely calm. He expected to still feel jittery and self-conscious, like he had just moments earlier, but Arthur had looked so sincere and earnest that all of Merlin's doubts just melted away. 

"Is it alright to set up the cat's things in the corner over there?" Arthur asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I've never actually had a pet, so I'm not really sure what it all entails."

Merlin managed a soft chuckle. "It's not rocket science, Arthur. But yes, the corner should work. I've got a litter box and some bowls for his food." He set the crate down and dug one of the bowls out of his bag. "Would you mind filling this one up with water?"

"Of course." Arthur's eyes were gentle as he took the plastic bowl from Merlin, his fingers brushing softly against Merlin's knuckles. Merlin wanted to take his hand. He wanted to pull Arthur close, bury his head in Arthur's warm, broad chest, and just take a moment to catch his breath. Instead, he knelt down and filled up the other bowl with kibble.

"Alright, Kilgharrah?" he cooed into the crate. Kilgharrah looked balefully back at him, silent and judgemental. He didn't seem overly rattled.

Arthur crouched next to him and placed the water bowl by the food. Their shoulders barely touched, and Merlin didn't know why it still made his chest go warm and gooey.

"Would you like to meet him?"

Arthur smiled broadly. "I'd be delighted."

Merlin unhooked the latch and coaxed Kilgharrah out of the crate. Kilgharrah looked around the kitchen warily, and Merlin ran his fingers down his spine.

"Kilgharrah, this is Arthur. Arthur's being very nice and letting us stay at his house. Which means we shouldn't claw up his drapes or pee on his floor."

Arthur's face crinkled in amusement. "It's very nice to meet you—" He slanted his eyes towards Merlin and raised his brows, "—Kilgharrah. What an unusual name you have."

Kilgharrah had decided he was bored with the proceedings and turned his back on Arthur to make his way over to the food. Merlin grinned at Arthur's frown.

"So, where _did_ that name come from?"

Merlin stood and stretched out the kinks in his spine. "I'm not really sure, actually. When I was little and used to play pretend, that was one of the names I came up with. He was a dragon, and I'd run around the house wearing this old shimmery, gold shawl of my mother's and growling at everybody while pretending to breathe fire. I have no clue where the name come from, though. When I got this golden tabby, it just seemed to fit."

Arthur smiled and looked at him, but Merlin couldn't quite place his expression. It was fond and pleased, with something more lurking around its edges. 

"What?" Merlin asked, feeling uneasy with Arthur's penetrating eyes on him.

Arthur shook his head. "Nothing. Why don't I make us something to eat. I can have a pizza ready in say...thirty minutes?"

Merlin's stomach growled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. "That would be amazing. Would you mind if I showered in the meantime?"

"Not at all. You can use the bathroom attached to my room, if you'd like. It should be all stocked up. The towel on the door is mine; all the others are clean."

Arthur turned towards the fridge, and Merlin hurried up the stairs, eager to take another shower and hopefully rid himself of this awful day. Arthur had an enormous shower with two showerheads that pulsed hot, perfectly pressured streams of water down on his aching neck and shoulders. He felt warm and clean and ridiculously relaxed by the time he made his way back downstairs in a pair of sweats and an oversized shirt. Normally he spent far too long thinking about what to wear when he came over to Arthur's, wanting to make a good impression, but he couldn't muster the energy now; he just wanted to be comfortable. Merlin wasn't sure if Arthur expected them to do a scene or if he'd just send Merlin off into one of the guest rooms to get some sleep. Merlin didn't know which option he'd prefer.

"Smells good," Merlin murmured as he settled in at the table. 

"If I did my job right, it'll taste good, too." Arthur winked as he placed the steaming pie between them, globs of melty mozzarella spreading out over thick red sauce. Merlin's mouth watered, and he lost no time at all digging into the food in front of him.

"This is _amazing_ ," Merlin gushed, between large bites of perfectly made pizza. His enjoyment might have been partially influenced by his near ravenous hunger, but Merlin was pretty sure it would have been delicious regardless.

Arthur's cheeks flushed under the praise. "Thanks. The crust came from my favourite pizza place, this little hole in the wall place a few blocks away."

"Well, it's delicious. I hope you don't mind if I eat half of this."

"Go ahead." Arthur grinned as he polished off his third slice. He gave a satisfied sigh and leaned back in his chair, staring at Merlin (who was still busy stuffing his face) for a long moment.

"So...did you want to tell me what you showing up here out of the blue is all about? Not that a mind, of course, but I'm quite curious. I heard something about a landlord?"

Merlin felt the full weight of his exhausting day press down on him. "Apparently my building has termites. They're fumigating for a couple of days, and I guess I missed all of the notices." Merlin smiled sheepishly. "I've been distracted lately."

Arthur's eyes twinkled merrily at that. "I can't imagine why."

"No?" Merlin took another bite of delectable pizza, doing his best to look completely casual.

"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like."

Merlin bit his lip. "You don't mind giving my cat run of your house?" Merlin thought Kilgharrah was probably in heaven. He had always been mischievous, and he loved exploring. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to explore in his tiny flat. Arthur's home, on the other hand, was just bursting with hidey-holes and exciting new spaces. Merlin hoped he would actually be able to find him when it came time to leave.

"Not at all. I always wanted a pet. My father thought they were a waste of time, and didn't allow us to have one. Though Morgana did manage to sneak a dog into the house for a few weeks when she was fourteen."

Merlin laughed. He could absolutely picture a rebellious teenaged Morgana trying to keep a dog as a secret pet. It was a charming picture, though it couldn't help but make Merlin even more curious about what Arthur and Morgana were like as children.

"So, you grew up with Morgana, but you didn't know she was your sister until fairly recently, right? When she found her mother's letters?"

Arthur nodded. "She was ten when her parents died, and she came to live with us. We grew up like siblings, even if we didn't realise how true it was until later." Arthur sighed and dragged a hand down his face. Merlin had gathered from their previous conversations that the subject was still a sore one.

"Alright, so how does the BDSM come into play?"

Arthur looked adorably confused at the change in subject.

Merlin grinned. "How did the two of you get into all of this?" He gestured at them both, though there was definitely nothing kinky about the two of them at the moment. "It hardly seems like the kind of thing your father would have introduced you to…"

Arthur's face spasmed in horror. " _God_ , no. That would be the fault of Morgana's sister, actually."

"Morgana has a sister?"

"Yes, half-sister, technically. Morgause. She's much older. She was at Uni when their parents died, and she's fairly awful. But Morgana adores her."

"And?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Morgause loathes my father, and was always trying to goad Morgana into doing wild things with her. She was dating this pillock, Cenred, when Morgana was sixteen, and he and Morgause were pretty into the scene back then. I found out that they were taking her to clubs, and I got a little...protective." Merlin could perfectly imagine it, a righteously furious Arthur, riding in like a white knight to save some damsel in distress. Of course, nobody who'd ever met Morgana would dare accuse her of being incapable of saving herself.

"I can't imagine that went over well."

Arthur let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Not especially. She insisted on going, so I insisted on going with her. Turns out I really liked it."

"How fortuitous," Merlin teased, as he stood up with his dirty dish.

"I thought so." Arthur ran a hand along Merlin's shoulder as he joined him at the sink. Merlin couldn't suppress his shudder of pleasure.

Arthur suggested they head up to bed after they finished with the dishes. Merlin grabbed his bag and followed up the stairs, hesitating at the door to Arthur's room.

Arthur noticed his pause. "I thought you could share with me. But I've got a guest room if you'd rather have a bed to yourself."

A big comfortable bed all to himself did sound nice, but not as nice as a big, comfortable bed with Arthur in it. Merlin bit his lip and shook his head, hurrying into the room. They brushed their teeth side by side in the bathroom, and the easy domesticity of it all had butterflies of panic and pleasure fluttering madly in his stomach. Arthur kept sneaking little glances at Merlin through the mirror, as if he couldn't really believe that Merlin was here. It was obvious how glad Arthur was that Merlin had shown up, and it just didn't make any _sense_. They were little more than fuckbuddies. Arthur shouldn't be looking at him with pleased eyes and open smiles.

They walked towards the bed together, but before Merlin had a chance to walk around to the other side, Arthur turned towards him. He stared at Merlin, until Merlin felt the urge to fill the silence with something, anything.

"Thanks again for letting me stay here," he mumbled.

Arthur nodded, his eyes still serious and solemn as he moved closer. He didn't stop until their chests were almost touching, until Merlin could see every single one of his pale, perfect eyelashes.

"I'm happy to have you here, Merlin."

"Yeah?" Merlin barely managed to squeak out the word. His throat felt bone dry, his lips parched. He wet them, and Arthur's eyes flicked down towards his mouth.

Arthur pressed a hand against Merlin's cheek, cupping it softly before sliding his fingers through Merlin's hair. It felt so good. It wasn't anything at all like the firm touches during one of their scenes. Those had been rough and sure and deliciously commanding, but that's not what Merlin wanted right now. Arthur's hand now was soothing and relaxing, scratching against Merlin's scalp and making his bones turn pliant and liquid.

And then Arthur kissed him, and Merlin's brain went supernova.

It was their first kiss. Merlin hadn't listed kissing as a limit, but it had always seemed unbearably intimate to him. Arthur and his brilliance at reading people had clearly picked up on it, because he'd never pushed. Now, with Arthur's soft lips sliding against his own, Merlin knew that he was absolutely right to have shied away from this before.

Arthur's mouth was devastating. Merlin felt like every fibre of his being was being pulled to Arthur, stretching tight in his body as they strained towards the electric brush of Arthur's lips. Arthur's tongue pressed Merlin's mouth open, and a breathy exhalation of desire was pulled unbidden from Merlin's throat. Arthur swallowed the sound, like he was swallowing Merlin, gulping him up, until it seemed like there would be nothing left of him, destroyed by this single mind-numbing kiss. 

It was pure heaven, the expert slide of Arthur's mouth against his own, his hands cupping Merlin's face and sliding softly through his hair, the pleased rumble of his chest, and the sharp promise of his teeth scraping ever-so-gently against Merlin's lower lip. Merlin was lost in it, completely unaware of space or time, unsure of his name or his past or his future. There was only this, this perfect, stolen moment.

It wasn't until Arthur's hands began to slide down Merlin's spine that he finally snapped back into himself. This was exactly why he hadn't kissed Arthur before. Merlin couldn't let himself get lost in Arthur. He didn't want to think about what it meant that a single kiss could so thoroughly unbalance him.

Merlin pressed his hands against Arthur's solid chest and pushed him back gently. Arthur came away reluctantly, his lips straining towards Merlin even as he began to pull back, as if his brain couldn't quite manage to convince his lips to part from Merlin. Merlin opened his mouth to say something, anything, to give his excuses as to why this couldn't happen, but nothing came out. Arthur's eyes were completely open to him, the confusion and hurt and defeated acceptance entirely on display. Merlin's heart clenched at the rawness of emotion, at the thought that he was the one causing Arthur pain.

Before Merlin's brain registered making a decision, Merlin' hands were fisting in Arthur's shirt and pulling him back in for another kiss.

Arthur responded eagerly, and this time the kiss was hotter, wetter, and filled with intent. They stumbled back onto the bed, hands tugging with frenzied need at their clothing until they were both blessedly naked.

Now that Merlin had let himself kiss Arthur, he couldn't bring himself to stop. Every moment when Arthur's lips weren't on his was a moment utterly wasted. Arthur pinned him back against the mattress, settling in between his spread thighs as Arthur's lips unraveled him. Their cocks were hard, pressed between their stomachs, and the both of them began to rock together, moving their bodies in a glorious grinding rhythm.

Everything was hot and wet and sticky. The open slide of their burning mouths, the sweat-slick glide of their chests, the hot friction of their cocks rubbing together. Precome pooled between their stomachs, and Arthur's prick felt large and inescapable as it throbbed against Merlin's own. Arthur's hands found Merlin's and he brought them both up by Merlin's head, their fingers laced tightly together.

It was all so erotic and intimate. Merlin had let Arthur fuck him and spank him, blindfold him and tie him up, but this, kissing and rubbing up against each other, made Merlin feel far more exposed than he ever had in any scene. This was the heart of him, this was Merlin stripped down and laid bare and kissing Arthur with everything he had in him. 

Arthur pulled back, and Merlin whined at the loss of his lips. The both of them were too far gone to even note the needy sound. Arthur looked down at him with those beautiful, trusting, too-open ( _why_ were they alway so open?) eyes. He looked adoring. He looked at Merlin like Merlin was something astounding and precious, somebody to be worshipped and admired and...loved. Merlin's heart cracked, emotion flooding out and dragging him under its glorious wave. Arthur was the one who was astounding. This beautiful, wonderful, miracle of a man who gave Merlin exactly what he needed, exactly when he needed it. Who made Merlin feel things he didn't think he could ever feel again. Things he didn't _want_ to feel, but that didn't make the miracle of them any less true. Arthur was shining and golden and for an impossible moment, Merlin wished he was worthy of him. He wished he was good enough and strong enough to have this, to hold on to all of the promises that Arthur's eyes held.

His eyes must have reflected some of that desperate longing, because Arthur made a hungry sound, low in his throat, and then his lips were back. His mouth was everywhere, skimming over Merlin's neck and throat, fluttering over Merlin's eyelids, sucking on his ear and nipping at his cheekbones and ravishing his lips. 

It was too much. Arthur's full lips and hard, heavy body, the orgasm building up in Merlin's groin as their hips thrust together, the emotion welling up between them, spilling out of Merlin's chest with each furious beat of his heart.

When Merlin finally came, it felt like he was being sliced open. He sobbed his release, come spurting hot and thick between them as fireworks went off in Merlin's head. His entire body felt shivery and sensitive, like the magic of their coupling had awakened every dormant cell and nerve ending in Merlin's body. Arthur came moments after, his mouth open against Merlin's cheek as he cried out his climax.

Merlin felt sleepiness begin to tug at him immediately. The stress and exhaustion of the day, combined with the emotional exhaustion of the night was too much for Merlin's body to handle without a reboot. 

A cool, wet cloth slid over his skin, cleaning off the sweat and come, and Merlin managed a garbled thank you as he buried himself beneath the blankets.

He wriggled closer on instinct when he felt Arthur slip back into bed, wanting to be near him, wanting to tangle himself up with Arthur until they couldn't tell themselves apart. Arthur pulled him in easily, slotting Merlin's head beneath his chin. Merlin draped his arm around Arthur's waist and let the faint thud of Arthur's heartbeat sing him to sleep.

+++

Merlin woke up warm and completely comfortable. The bed was shifting underneath him, and Merlin made a small sound of discontent. He didn't have work today, which meant he wanted to stay in bed as long as possible. He cracked open an eye and saw Arthur standing over him, all soft eyes and pearly teeth. Arthur must have been up for awhile now, because he was already dressed in an impeccable suit.

"Go back to sleep, Merlin. I've got to head to the office for a little while, but I'll be back this afternoon. Make yourself at home."

Arthur leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over Merlin's forehead. His thumb rubbed gently against Merlin's exposed cheekbone, almost reverently, and then he was out of the room. Merlin was most decidedly awake now, his mind alert and his heart rabbit-fast.

What the hell was he thinking?

He'd fallen asleep in Arthur's arms last night, and nothing had felt better...except maybe waking up to Arthur's lovely, smiling face. Merlin was already in too deep, his heart all tangled up in Arthur. It was unacceptable.

He shot out of bed, pulse pounding as he yanked on his clothing. It had to stop. Merlin had to put a stop to this nonsense now, before it was too late. Merlin didn't belong here. He didn't belong in this beautiful house with that beautiful man who made his soul soar. Merlin had managed to survive all these years since Will's death without love, and he could do it certainly now. 

He packed up his bags and began searching the house for Kilgharrah. It wasn't ideal, but Merlin would just have to suck it up and pay for a hotel for the next few nights. Surely he could find one that took cats and wouldn't break the bank. He tried not to think about Arthur, about the strange emptiness in his chest as Merlin thought about Arthur's face when he came home to an empty house.

Sure, Arthur cared for him now, but it couldn't last. Really, Merlin was doing them both a favour by nipping it all in the bud. Last night's lovemaking had been transcendent, but it was just a pretty lie. Merlin didn't deserve the realness of the affection in Arthur's eyes. Merlin always hurt the ones he loved.

No. Not love. He didn't _love_ Arthur. That would be ridiculous. Merlin couldn't deny that he cared for him. That his feelings went beyond the close bond of trust that developed between a sub and Dom for them to successfully play together. Merlin thought about Arthur constantly, about what he was doing and wearing and thinking, about his interests and his likes, about his pretty eyes and confident smile. It wasn't love though. Merlin hadn't let things get so far out of hand. 

He found Kilgharrah hiding under a plush, cream-coloured sofa in the downstairs parlour, and Merlin coaxed him out with soft coos. Merlin chewed his lip as he scooped up the cat and carried him towards his crate in the kitchen. An empty coffee mug was sitting on the countertop, and Merlin felt a pang deep in his chest at the sight. How ridiculous! Even Arthur's dirty dishware made Merlin feel sentimental.

Merlin surveyed his belongings, feeling reluctant to actually leave the peaceful safety of Arthur's home. Would staying really be so bad? Maybe he and Arthur could be happy. Maybe they could last.

Merlin closed his eyes as visions of Will's limp and bloody body flashed through his mind. Only this time, the form had golden hair and broad shoulders. It was Arthur on the ground in front of him, Arthur dying in his arms. Merlin worked in a hospital. He saw horrible tragedies happen every day. The thought of letting himself fall again, and the possibility of having to watch again as his lover died...Merlin wasn't strong enough. He couldn't go through that again, not ever. No matter what the cost.

He trundled out the front door, weighed down by the cat's crate, his duffle bag, and a heavy heart. Merlin didn't let himself dwell on the way his entire heart seemed to strain back towards Arthur's building, on how each step away felt like treading through treacle. 

Merlin had made his choice. It was for the best.


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin was miserable. 

After leaving Arthur's, Merlin had found a hotel near the hospital that would let him stay with his cat. It had been tight, but Merlin had managed for the two days until his landlord had called and given him the all-clear to return.

That first night, Arthur had called him several times, leaving increasingly frantic voicemails until Merlin had finally broken down and texted him that he was alright and staying with a friend. The calls and texts had died down after that, especially since Merlin had refused to respond. Every time his mobile had vibrated it had been like a hundred needles stabbing through his skin. It had been torture ignoring Arthur. 

It had been two days now since Arthur had last attempted contact. Merlin told himself it was for the best, that Arthur was letting go and moving on, which was exactly what Merlin had wanted in the first place. Which didn't explain why not hearing from Arthur was even more painful than having to ignore him when he was calling and texting.

There was a part of Merlin—a not inconsiderable part—that craved Arthur and longed to call him back. Something about Arthur felt so indescribably _right_ , like they were two perfectly slotted puzzle pieces or two sides of the same shiny coin. 

Even back in the glory days of his and Will's relationship, Merlin had never felt such an incredible connection. He hadn't known Arthur for long, but somehow he had already managed to work his way under Merlin's skin. It felt like chopping off his own arm, going without Arthur, but Merlin made himself push through the pain. He knew that Dom/sub relationships often became very deep, very quickly, due to the level of trust involved. Surely, that's all this was, a natural bond born of circumstance, that would fade away with time apart. Merlin prayed that's all it was, even as a small, dark part of his heart yearned for Arthur's continued affections.

He had been moody and irritable for weeks, and even Gwen was giving him a wide berth. Merlin didn't know what to do. The only person that could raise his spirits was the one person he'd swore to himself he would stay away from. He resigned himself to being miserable for the foreseeable future.

Merlin was staring morosely down at a bowl of soggy cereal when his mobile rang. His stomach flipped, a surge of adrenaline sweeping through him as he looked down at the flashing screen, half hoping, half dreading that it would be Arthur. Again.

But the name lit up on his screen wasn't Arthur; it was Morgana.

"Hello?" Merlin asked, his voice shakier than he would have liked. He wasn't sure what Arthur might have told Morgana, or what to expect from her call. 

"Hi, Merlin, how are you?"

"I'm fine...what can I do for you?"

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to call and let you know that my arm's all healed."

"What, already? That's wonderful." His voice was flatter than it should have been. Merlin didn't know why this news filled him with a sort of hollow acceptance.

"Already? It's been nearly six months, Merlin. It's been bloody torture!"

"Oh, well, I'm glad you're better." Merlin looked down at his other hand, trembling against the countertop. It had been two weeks since he'd seen Arthur. Before, he could go over a month between scenes without so much as a nervous tick, but now his body was used to getting what it wanted, whenever it wanted it. Five months with Arthur had his entire being singing out for submission, and his head felt like it was filled with cotton after only two weeks without. He'd promised himself he wouldn't go back to Arthur, he wouldn't give in. No matter how much he wanted to, being with Arthur was a risk Merlin wasn't willing to take. Now here Morgana was, offering him a solution he felt almost reluctant to take. "Are you doing scenes again? Because I'd like to set something up if you're available."

"Yes, I've got some time," Morgana said slowly. There was a long pause. "But I thought you'd stay with Arthur. Don't feel like you have to come back to me just because I'm all better now. I really don't mind if you'd prefer to stay with Arthur."

"No. Arthur and I...we're not a good fit, is all. I'd prefer you, if that's alright."

"Of course, Merlin," Morgana's voice was uncharacteristically soft, probably responding to the tension Merlin couldn't keep out of his voice. 

She sounded a little bemused as they set up a session for the following week, but she didn't say anything more about Arthur. Merlin was glad. He was having difficulty suppressing the strange feeling that he was betraying Arthur somehow. Which was ridiculous, because they weren't together. There wasn't anything for Merlin to betray. 

It was exactly how Merlin had wanted it. He went about his day with his head held high, and refused to think about why his impending session with Morgana made his heart feel heavy and his skin prickle. It would be fine. He'd submit to Morgana's capable hand, and everything would go back to normal.


	9. Chapter 9

Merlin wasn't expecting any visitors that night, so he was surprised by the pounding at his door as he was getting ready for bed. It wasn't quite ten, but Merlin figured he could mope just as well in bed as on the sofa.

He padded over to the front door, wearing his red and blue tartan pyjama pants and an oversized sleep shirt. It was probably only a neighbour, or maybe his landlord come to bring him more bad news. Merlin didn't bother looking through the peephole before swinging open the door, just as another round of vociferous knocking began. He froze.

Arthur was standing in the doorway, arm raised and expression angry.

"A—Arthur? What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Arthur glared, pushing his way into Merlin's flat without waiting for an invitation. "What am I doing here?!"

Merlin gaped at him. Even in his anger, Arthur was beautiful. His eyes flashed dangerously, and the strong angles of his face seemed harsher and more pronounced. A tiny kernel of pleasure bloomed inside of Merlin, a lazy cat coming to bask in the sunlight of Arthur's presence. An angry Arthur was better than no Arthur. 

"Yes. Why are you stomping about my flat? And how do you even know where I live?" Merlin couldn't remember ever giving him his address.

"Nevermind all of that. What I want to know is why Morgana seems to think she's got a scene with you next week."

Merlin bit his lip, swallowing down the uncomfortable guilt. He'd done nothing wrong. "Probably because I asked her for one."

Arthur looked stricken, as if he'd been hoping it had all been some kind of terrible misunderstanding. Merlin wanted to go to him, to comfort him. Instead he stayed exactly where he was.

"Why? Why would you do that? I thought we—you should have at least told me if you wanted to end things."

"There wasn't anything to _end_. We weren't together."

The air around Arthur crackled. "That's not true and you know it. That last night meant something more, it's _always_ meant something more with us. Don't try and tell me you don't feel it too, Merlin. I won't believe you."

Merlin opened his mouth to deny it, but the words couldn't come. He couldn't make himself speak the lie, couldn't bring himself to deny something he felt in his bones. It didn't change anything.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I just...I just can't. I was planning on telling you, really, but I've been busy with, erm, work and...stuff. The only reason I even managed to schedule something with Morgana was because she called me to tell her about her arm."

"Oh, so it's only my calls you're screening, then?"

"I—" Merlin didn't know what to say.

Arthur's lips tightened. "You're a coward," he spat. "We've got something here between us, and you're running away from it like a scared little boy."

Merlin winced. He hated the way Arthur was looking at him, cold and disgusted. Panic welled up inside of him, his mind and body torn between wanting Arthur to stay and needing him to go.

"Fine, yes, I'm a coward. So you shouldn't want to be with somebody like me anyway." His stomach writhed, like he had a bellyfull of snakes. This was all so wrong, so utterly, incomprehensibly wrong. 

Arthur's expression turned calculating, and Merlin wondered what he was giving away, what clues Arthur was gleaning from him.

"Why are you doing this, Merlin? What's the real reason you're pushing me away?" He advanced, his entire body leaning forward in an almost predatory manner. "I know it's not because you don't care about me. I know it's not because you don't want me. What is it, Merlin? Tell me what—"

"I don't want you to get hurt!" Merlin yelled, shocked into stillness at his own outburst. 

Arthur was surprised, too, his tone careful as he said, "You've already hurt me. This hurts me, Merlin."

"Not like that. I—" Merlin stopped, trying to keep the words inside, but they poured out of his mouth in an unstoppable gush. "The friend I told you about, the one who died, the reason I became a nurse. He was...we were...I was going to break up with him that night. We'd been together for years, he was mad about me, and I loved him, I did, but I wanted more. He was willing to play around a bit, but he didn't like hurting me, and I...I needed to be hurt, I _need_ to be hurt, sometimes. So I decided that he wasn't enough, and he died in my arms. He—" Merlin's voice broke, his tone wavering as he choked out, "He _saved_ me, pushed me out of harm's way and I was going to—" Merlin bit back a sob. "I can't, Arthur, don't you see? I can't go through that again, I won't, and I don't deserve you anyway. Will died for a lie, my lie. I don't get to have a happily ever after."

Arthur's face softened as Merlin spoke, expression moving from anger to gentle compassion. The look would annoy Merlin on anybody else, but on Arthur, it only filled Merlin with a steady, glowing comfort.

"Merlin," Arthur murmured, his voice clear and low as he moved closer. "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

Merlin nodded and blinked. He felt that if he were to try and speak, he wouldn't be able to fight the tears that he felt pricking at his eyelids. Merlin was jumbled and vulnerable, and he stepped instinctively back from Arthur's advance. But the wall was right behind him, and he couldn't go far.

"You can't hide like this forever, Merlin. You don't deserve that, no matter what you might think. If this Will was as mad about you as you say, then he wouldn't want this for you. He saved your life. You owe it to him to _live_ it. To be happy."

Merlin's chest constricted, his heart and his mind parsing through years of guilt and sadness to hear Arthur's words.

"I don't know if I can."

Arthur brought his fingers up to caress Merlin's jaw, the pads warm and steady against his skin. "I've never felt this way about anybody before. There's something about you, Merlin. It's like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other. I can't explain it."

Merlin knew what he meant, he felt it too. "That's what makes it even harder," Merlin whispered. "It almost killed me when Will died. And you... it would be even worse if anything were to happen to you."

"If I died tomorrow, would it hurt any less because we're not together?"

Merlin's entire being screamed out at the idea of it, and he knew the horror of it was reflected in his expression. He understood Arthur's point, that not being together wasn't protecting Merlin from the potential pain of the future. It would only make their present just as unbearable. 

"We were never together," Merlin finally said, unable to come up with any other response.

Arthur looked frustrated. He took Merlin's hands into his own and squeezed. 

"Then let's start now. Date me. Be my boyfriend, my partner, my sub, whatever you want. Just say you'll stay. Say you'll try."

Merlin was a mess of emotion. Fear and desire and terror and joy battling it out in his gut. It would be a terrible idea to say yes. He'd already listed all the reasons why Merlin's past made it impossible, but they hadn't even covered how different their lives were, the difficulties of reconciling such utterly different paths. But Arthur didn't care about any of that. He just wanted Merlin. Merlin was finding that he just wanted Arthur, too. Impossible as it was, he wanted to try. He wanted to be happy.

Merlin took a deep breath and looked into Arthur's eyes.

"Okay," Merlin said, feeling rather like he was throwing himself off a cliff of unknown height, even as a heart-stopping smile stole over Arthur's face. "I'll try."


	10. Chapter 10

Merlin's stomach was a giant, tangled knot of excitement. 

For the hundredth time that hour, he glanced over at the clock, praying for the end of his shift. Arthur had called that morning, telling him that the room was finally ready. 

It had been three months since Merlin and Arthur had officially started dating, and things were going wonderfully, much to Merlin's surprise. Sure, they argued and bickered, and sometimes Merlin freaked out about how in sync they were and Arthur had to talk him back off a ledge, but Merlin couldn't remember ever feeling so blissfully happy. There was something so right about being with Arthur, and every day, he became a little less afraid of that fact. 

After Merlin's nervous commitment to try things with Arthur, they'd played together for the first time in weeks. Merlin had begged Arthur to flog him, desperately wanting that intense rush of pain and freedom. He knew from their first conversation together that flogging was one of Arthur's favourites, and though Merlin wasn't exactly sure why they hadn't done it yet, he thought it would make for an appropriate first scene as a couple, or whatever they were now; perhaps Arthur had been waiting for things to become more serious between them before engaging in the activity.

Much to Merlin's disappointment,however. Arthur had demurred, explaining that he was planning on setting up a playroom in the third floor attic space in his house, and he wanted to wait until everything was set up. Merlin had pouted a bit—flogging was his favourite too, and it had been months and months since he'd last had the pleasure—but Arthur had bent Merlin over his knee, and he'd quickly lost that train of thought.

Now, though, the room was ready, which meant that Merlin was finally going to get the flogging he'd been craving so vociferously. His excitement had his nerves jangling and he was equal parts excited and anxious by the time he reached Arthur's house.

Arthur's smile was sharp and knowing as he opened the door to him. Merlin didn't bother with pleasantries.

"Well, let's see it then."

Arthur laughed, but gamely took him up the stairs.

The room was gorgeous, all exposed brick and dark polished wood. Merlin supposed he shouldn't be surprised; everything in Arthur's house was lovely and expensive-looking. There was an uncommonly large sofa in deep maroon covered with several fluffy looking throw pillows against one wall. That, combined with the tasteful rugs, soft lighting, and various gold framed mirrors gave Merlin the impression of a cosy sitting room. Of course, that was before the eye registered the rest of the furnishings.

There was a beautiful wooden dresser with many drawers of various sizes—Merlin could only guess at its contents—and on the wall above it hung a line of expensive whips, paddles and floggers. There was a spanking bench in the back corner, an almost alarming number of hooks and rings sprouting out from the floor, walls, and ceiling, an intimidating leather sex swing that made Merlin blush, and the most stunning metal and leather St Andrew's Cross that Merlin had ever seen braced against the farthest wall. Merlin felt his heart speed up.

"I thought it'd be the cross," Arthur said smugly. 

"Yeah," Merlin breathed, not bothering with a snippy reply. He could already feel the kiss of metal against his skin, smell the rich leather of the cuffs, hear the slice of the flogger as it arched through the air.

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and Merlin snapped back to reality. He realised he was panting, his trousers already tenting with the knowledge that this fantasy was about to be made a reality. He turned pleading eyes towards Arthur. 

"Now?"

Arthur looked at him sternly. "I should make you wait a little." Merlin continued to beg with his eyes, and Arthur relented. "Alright, yes, now. I'll not pretend I haven't been desperate to have a go at you."

Merlin walked over to Arthur's wall of hitting implements, narrowing in on the floggers, which was by far the most extensive collection Merlin had ever seen. There were floggers of all sorts. Some made up of suede, or oiled leather, or both, falls of various length and thickness and number, long and short hilts. The majority were black or dark brown, but there was the occasional colour woven into a few of the more striking implements. Merlin fingered the falls, imagining the type of sensation each flogger would deliver.

"I thought I'd start with this one."

Arthur unhooked a black suede flogger and handed it to Merlin. The handle was heavy, probably shot loaded with lead for balance, and the falls seemed to be of middling width. 

"Fairly middle of the road, that one. Bit more thud, thought you'd like that." Merlin nodded. He wound the falls around his fingers, tugging at the leather, as Arthur continued, "I wanted to start simple. No fancy moves or floggers, at least not this time. I want to see how you react." Arthur moved close, his breath hot against Merlin's neck. "Eventually, though, I want to try them all on you. Warm you up with the elk, watch your skin pink up under the sting of the thin oiled leather, see how you hold up with two floggers under a six point florentine."

"You can do a six point?" Merlin felt his mouth run dry as he imagined the feel of the three beat cracking across his skin. "Morgana can only do a four."

Arthur smirked. "I know. For some reason she's never been able to master the six. Drives her mad that I have."

"Why haven't you flogged me yet?" It was incomprehensible that Arthur had made Merlin wait so long for this. 

"Because you're still dressed."

Merlin was peeling off his shirt before Arthur had finished speaking. Arthur outright laughed at his enthusiasm, but there was a glint in his eyes that told Merlin he wasn't unaffected. When Merlin had fully stripped, Arthur steeped in close and kissed him deeply. His tongue stroked possessively over Merlin's, his lips sliding strong and sure against Merlin's mouth. Merlin blinked dazedly when Arthur finally pulled back.

"What was that for?"

Arthur grinned. "It's going to be much harder to kiss you once I strap you to the cross. Thought I'd get a snog in now."

Merlin wanted to roll his eyes, but his stomach was already fluttering in anticipation as Arthur led him over to the St Andrew's Cross. He gamely turned to face it, spreading his legs wide to align them with the lower legs. Arthur kneeled and strapped him in, fluttering teasing kisses against Merlin's thighs before standing.

"Arms."

Merlin obeyed the command, raising up his arms so that Arthur could cuff his wrists. He shivered when Arthur stepped back, taking the heat of his body with him. It wasn't cold in the room, but Merlin immediately felt extra aware of the cool metal and soft leather of the cross beneath his skin. His hard cock bobbed free, just below the center X. Already, he was desperate for some friction, but he made himself wait. This would be worth it.

Arthur walked away, and Merlin heard the opening of drawers and the sound of rummaging. Curiosity prickled across the back of his neck. Merlin wondered what else he was in for. 

Merlin didn't have to wait long. Seconds later, Arthur was back behind him. Merlin registered the familiar rustle of falls, and then the black suede flogger was being draped over his shoulder, falls spilling down his chest and hilt resting across the nape of his neck. Merlin gasped.

"You don't mind holding onto that for me, do you? I've got my hands full."

"With what?" Merlin asked, his voice breathy through the tightness in his throat. Slick fingers rubbed over the cleft of Merlin's arse, and he relaxed to let them press in. 

Arthur's voice was low in Merlin's ear, his naked chest hot against Merlin's back. "I plan on fucking you, after, when your skin's all red with my marks. I thought I'd prepare you now, so when I'm ready, I can just slide right inside."

Merlin's stomach swooped, as if he'd just experienced a twenty metre drop. Arthur's sinful voice in his ear, his clever fingers working open Merlin's arse, the cool suede of the flogger resting against his skin, reminding him of what was to come...it was already overwhelming him. Merlin loved it.

Arthur's fingers continued pumping and twisting inside of him, getting him loose and dripping until Arthur was satisfied. His digits came free with a filthy pop, and moments later, Merlin felt the cold press of silicone.

" _Oh_ ," Merlin gasped, the slim toy sinking deep inside. It was about as thick as two fingers at the widest part, and Merlin wriggled as the flared base of the butt plug settled into place. 

Arthur groaned, his hands squeezing Merlin's arse cheeks possessively. The movement jostled the plug, sending little waves of pleasure pulsing through Merlin. 

"Please," he whimpered. The wait was driving him spare. He was fairly certain Arthur was more than aware of that fact. Sadistic bastard.

"It's alright, darling. I've got you."

One of Arthur's hands slid up to grip Merlin's shoulder, as the other grabbed the hilt of the flogger. With aching slowness, Arthur began to slide the flogger off of Merlin's shoulder, the falls slithering leisurely against Merlin's neck. Merlin's entire body shuddered at the slow glide, at the sensation of suede wrapping sensuously around his throat and cascading down his back. 

When the flogger was finally free—what felt like hours later—Arthur began to twirl it, carouseling it up and down Merlin's legs and arse and back. The ends of the falls danced over Merlin's skin, and Merlin felt himself winding tighter and tighter at the tease. His skin felt primed and bare, ready to be brought to life under snap and sting.

The carouseling stopped, and Merlin barely had time to blink before the first gentle blow landed across his back. Arthur paused for several seconds, giving him time to get used to the sensation, before striking again and again with equal gentle pressure, warming up Merlin's skin, his blood and bone and muscle buzzing happily. 

"I'm going to go harder now. Let me know immediately if it's too much or you want me to stop."

"Yes, okay. Please."

Pain pulsed through him as the first strike landed, a glorious sensation that sunk into his core. Merlin gave himself a moment to savour it, the slight sting in his flesh, the way his body seemed to hum with awareness. Arthur didn't give him long, though, before he started up again, this time not pausing as he rained down a series of delicious blows. 

Arthur was good. It didn't surprise Merlin, not really, but part of him had been wondering if maybe Arthur had put it off for so long because he was nervous of his ability. From what Merlin could tell, he had nothing to be nervous about. His arm was strong and his aim was true. He covered Merlin's back and arse with measured strikes, leaving lines of glorious heat in his wake. 

Merlin lost himself in the pleasure and the pain, until his body went liquid against the cross. Every nerve ending in his body was singing, the ones beneath the crack of the flogger crying out in ecstatic agony. Under Arthur's ministrations, everything else fell away, until there was nothing but him and Arthur and a gentle peace that stole over Merlin, strengthened with every kiss of the flogger's falls.

Merlin wasn't sure how long they danced together to the sound of Arthur's grunts and Merlin's eager whimpers, but Arthur seemed to know just when to stop. He let the beautiful pain envelope Merlin, but he didn't let it drag Merlin out to sea, didn't let him drown in it. 

There was a pause, a beat of silence where all Merlin could feel was the hot throb of his stinging flesh. And then Arthur was back, kissing Merlin's shoulder as he slid the plug out of his hole. Merlin cried out at the loss, but Arthur was there, sliding inside of him in one long thrust. It burned, the additional stretch, the rub of Arthur's hips against the reddened skin of Merlin's arse. Merlin arched back into the sensation, crying out with the joy of it. 

Arthur fucked him with brutal elegance, one hand on Merlin's hip and the other wrapped around his chest, anchoring Merlin back against him. He fucked Merlin until he came, his hips stilling as he pressed deep inside. Arthur's hand slipped down Merlin's chest, then, wanking him to a shuddering end with Arthur's softening cock still buried in his arse.

Arthur detached Merlin from the cross with practiced ease. Freed from his bounds, Merin let himself sag against the bars while Arthur gathered up their toys and wiped him down with a warm, damp cloth.

He followed Arthur eagerly to the plush maroon sofa, curling up against him and opening his mouth gamely for tiny sips of water from the large glass Arthur had brought over. Merlin wrapped the soft blanket around himself and marvelled at how Arthur really had managed to think of everything for this room. Merlin couldn't wait to discover all the other wonders it contained.

"Was that alright?"

Merlin looked up, surprised. It wasn't like Arthur to be anything other than confident about his Domming abilities. Merlin had been looking forward to this for ages, and he was touched that Arthur wanted so badly to live up to expectation.

"It was perfect, just what I needed."

Arthur's grin was blinding. "Plenty more where that came from."

"I can't wait. Though, I suppose I'll _have_ to, what with Gwen and Lance's engagement party tonight. We should probably think about getting ready soon, or we'll be late." Merlin tried to sound positive, but he knew he didn't completely manage to mask the disapproval in his tone.

"You think it's too soon?"

"Don't you? They've known each other less than a _year_." In fact, Gwen and Lance had known each other for even less time than Merlin and Arthur had. They were wonderful together, but it all seemed a little fast in Merlin's opinion. He was happy for his friends, truly, he just hoped they weren't making a terrible mistake.

"No. I think it's true love." Arthur ran a hand through Merlin's sweaty fringe, his eyes glittering with soft conviction. "Sometimes you just know when you've met the one. The one person you know you want to spend the rest of your life with."

Merlin arched his neck up to brush a soft kiss over Arthur's lips, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.

"Yeah, I guess sometimes you do."

 

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> [Kudos ♥] and [Comments] are fabulous! I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://gracerene09.tumblr.com/)!


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